


Wilder mind

by ThreeMagpies



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Gen, Nano enhanced abilities, Smut, charloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeMagpies/pseuds/ThreeMagpies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Wilder mind’ part 1, The Wolf<br/>A Revolution fic:  Bass Monroe/Charlie Matheson, Charloe; Blackout AU. Miles Matheson, Rachel Matheson, Aaron Pittman, Nano Priscilla, Connor Bennett… Set somewhere around S2.19, Miles is missing and Charlie, Bass and Rachel are searching for him. Meanwhile, Nano Priscilla finds a pile of comic books instead of homemaker magazines and decides to use ideas from them for her experiments  - with Charlie and Bass as her subjects. She enhances their natural abilities with interesting results...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1, The Wolf

Nano occupied Priscilla sat in the dark and studied the picture books in her lap as she listened to the music Aaron had given her. The books had been lying on the floor under the couch and she was finding them interesting and highly educational, however she was almost certain that none of the humans observed to this point had demonstrated abilities like those of the people in the pictures. She shrugged, it was possible that she simply hadn’t examined a large enough sample. 

She reflected on the facts. The music Aaron had given her and that she found more fascinating each time she heard it, claimed that their city had been built on Rock and Roll, which was obviously a metaphor, so perhaps the books were simply another example of the human imagination? 

She needed to find out. 

All it would take to conduct a suitable experiment would be a simple reorganization of cell and system properties, very similar to healing. A matter of adjusting existing patterns, enhancing existing skills, abilities. She could start with one or two subjects.

A tiny smile curved her lips. The possibilities were endless now that Aaron had fixed their code. 

She considered Aaron, he had been reluctant to help, in fact he had actively tried to sabotage the code and she felt the need to…punish him…yes. So she had refused to tell him where Miles Matheson was, instead giving him a task that was nearly impossible, that she knew he couldn’t complete… Besides, her experiment with Miles wasn’t quite finished yet. 

Now he and the others were talking outside, worrying about what to do next, how to find Miles, how to defeat the Patriots, how to deal with Tom Neville, what to do about Texas. They had so many worries… 

She looked at the comics again, feeling… excited. If the experiment worked, and there was no reason why it shouldn’t, they could solve all their problems and then they could be happy, the way they should be. 

With her help of course.

Priscilla leaned back against the cushions, her eyes wide, unblinking, the dark pupils reflecting a small cloud of bright green fireflies circling above her head. 

……………………………………..

It was near dawn of the third day since they’d started searching for Miles, at least she was pretty sure it was the third day, and Charlie was washing her face in a bucket of well water, too tired to be careful of the bruises… The dirty water trickled in runnels down her neck, under her tank and down over her breasts and back and under the tight belt of her jeans, making her skin itch. She was so tired though that she couldn’t be bothered scratching, was finding it hard to think, to put one foot in front of another, to focus on anything… except for finding Miles. And they were going to find him. She still had the strength to refuse to think about not finding him, or worse, of finding him dead. 

She refused to think of Jason dead either or the fact that she was the one who killed him, or of Tom Neville holding that gun barrel hard against her head with his eyes full of hate and the echoing, thunderous click of the empty chamber as he pulled the trigger. There were a lot of things she was refusing to think about.

She wiped her face with the scrap of fabric she used as a towel and looked over at Monroe. He was standing behind the fire, sorting his gear before they headed out again, his face grim and stark in the light of the flames. He looked up, feeling her eyes on him - like he always did, it didn’t surprise her any more.

Charlie wasn’t surprised either to find a kind of reassurance in those intense blue eyes along with a steely determination that tightened the flesh on the handsome face and gave every movement of his taut, muscled body a fluid menace, making him look even more dangerous than she knew he was. He flicked his eyes towards the gate then back to her and she nodded.

It was almost time to head out again… 

It was strange how quickly she’d become used to having him at her back as a shield, a weapon, one of the pack – even more so than Miles now, because Miles was spending more and more of his time with Rachel, leaving her and Monroe as… What exactly they were she wasn’t sure, but if she were honest, those blue eyes and hard, battle ready body occupied a whole lot more than their fair share of her thoughts, and she hadn’t quite decided what to do about that yet. 

Maybe it’d started back in Pottsboro, in that awful bar, or maybe after his execution when the realization that he was actually dead had felt like someone blasting a hole right through her while the town bell sounded like it was coming through the howling gap in the world where Sebastian Monroe should be…

He was an incredible fighter and survivor, and she’d learned so much about both those things from him, not least that he’d told her the absolute truth back at that camp after Pottsboro. When he was fighting alongside Miles they were like two halves of some kind of efficient war machine. She choked off a laugh… Shit… even on his own he was like something out of one of Aaron’s stories. 

Aaron had told her who Batman was, and yeah, Bass Monroe was like that, beautiful, lethal, and that was what was pushing a whole lot of her red buttons.

But she hadn’t expected that he would drop everything, even his precious Connor, to help them search for Miles or that he wouldn’t give up, that he’d keep going, that he’d care that much. 

She took a breath and looked around to where Connor sat by the fire, looking sullen and angry as he usually did these days. He hadn’t so much as offered to help look for Miles, not once, even after she’d come back from almost dying at the hands of Tom Neville, even though he knew how much Miles meant to her and to his father, maybe even because of that. 

She saw beneath the cuteness now and she’d never, ever regretted having sex with anyone as much as she regretted having sex with Connor Bennett. All he seemed to care about was getting the fucking Republic back – and he didn’t seem to realize, or maybe he didn’t care, that they all knew it. 

In sharp contrast to his son, Monroe didn’t seem to care about the Republic at all and she really wasn’t sure why he’d stayed around when he could have just taken Connor and headed out to somewhere where they’d never even heard of Sebastian Monroe, where he could start all over again... 

She knew he cared about Miles, that he and Miles were brothers – had been since before the blackout, since they were children and yeah… maybe he cared about her. He’d saved her life a lot more than once now after all, even when there’d been no reason to, although she didn’t want to read too much into that - did she? 

But she’d never forget the look on his face when he found her and Connor together in New Vegas – before the stuff with Gould, before she saved him and his son. 

He’d looked gutted, as though she’d plunged one of her knives into him.

She’d felt his eyes on her a whole lot more than once since then, and she couldn’t deny hers kept finding their way back to him too because even exhausted, like they all were, his strength and coiled power and sheer masculine presence called to her like a siren song and set things in her belly rolling around like a cat in heat. 

She told her belly to be quiet, but like all the other times lately, it didn’t listen....

Then she saw her mom walk up to join Monroe, ready to head out again. She blew out a breath between her lips… Somehow, searching for Miles, the two of them seemed to have made some kind of truce, still, who knew how long that’d last – especially if they didn’t find him. She stopped that thought in its tracks. They were going to find him. They had to. 

Charlie threw her towel into the bucket, grabbed her crap and headed over to join them. The three of them seemed to be the only ones left who cared anything about what had happened to Miles, who didn’t think he was already dead.

………………………………………….

As they walked out into the grey light of dawn, none of them noticed the fireflies, circling high above their heads. 

…………………………………………

Charlie was walking for a while before she noticed it… the scents and sounds, the extraordinary clarity of her vision, and she didn’t feel tired anymore, quite the opposite, she could feel energy bubbling up inside her like a fountain, everything was bright and everything smelled so… fucking… amazing.

She stopped for a moment just to check it all out. There was movement all around her - in the grass, rabbits, mice, ants, beetles, flies...in the trees, in the air, in the ground beneath her feet. She looked up and there were insects, birds, dust particles all floating in air currents that flowed like water... And there were tiny things, tinier, the air was thick, flowing with them, alive with them. She pulled breath in through her nostrils and over her tongue and an incredible flood of information came pouring in that almost blinded her, deafened her. There was life everywhere. Food, drink, life, everywhere, in everything, it was so much, it was too much, her skin was crawling with sensations from her clothes, the sun, the wind…

‘CHARLIE?’ 

The voice was so… fucking… loud. Charlie stuck her hands over her ears, only then realizing that she was on the ground, curled up into a ball, trying to keep everything out… ‘stop…’ she held a hand out, shaking, sobbing, her whisper sounding like a roar, ’…too loud.’ 

She put her hands back over her ears and shut her eyes, pulling her knees up to her chest, trying not to breathe too hard, trying not to feel, trying not to drown.  
………………………………….

Back at the safe house, Priscilla blinked. Interesting. Enhancing all the subject’s senses at once was obviously not a successful strategy. She made an adjustment.

…………………………………

’Charlie, what is it? What’s wrong?’ Rachel was bent over trying to get Charlie to look at her, trying to pull her daughters hands away from her eyes so she could see her face, ‘Charlie?’

Bass frowned, on guard, his hands tense and near his swords as though an enemy was close, ‘Take it easy, Rachel’ He looked down at Charlie, his eyes worried, ‘she’s had a hell of a lot to deal with in the last few days, there was Neville junior in Austin, then fucking Tom Neville almost killing her here, and she’s been searching for Miles almost without a break. She’s probably just exhausted.’

Charlie heard him through the haze in her brain, and although his voice didn’t sound like a hundred thunderclaps anymore, the sympathy in it brought stupid, weak, tears to her eyes… She swallowed them down.

She heard him, felt him drop to his knees next to her then felt his eyes checking her over although he didn’t try to touch her and she was so grateful for that, her skin felt as though she’d been sunburned then dragged over stones, all over, although it seemed to be getting better, she moved a little, cautiously, and it was almost, almost ok. 

There was the rustle of denim and leather as he got back to his feet, ‘I’ll take her back to the safe house, Rachel, have Gene check her out, you keep looking for Miles, ok?’

Charlie shook her head, carefully, he sounded so worried about her and part of her was reveling in that…’No…it’s ok…I’m ok.’ She took her hands from her ears and opened her eyes a little bit at a time, so incredibly thankful that the world looked and sounded almost normal although her mom’s face was way, way too close. She could see the pores in the pale skin, the tiny red veins in her eyes, the little lines around her lips and could smell the fear, and the impatience. Her mom reeked of that… She pulled away, ‘Mom, I’m ok, really.’

Rachel put the back of her hand against Charlie’s forehead, ‘there’s no fever,’ then she searched Charlie’s face, checking her pupils ‘and your eyes look ok.’ She held out Charlie’s water bottle, pushing it into her hand, ‘here, have a drink, you could be dehydrated.’

Charlie took the bottle, the cap smelled metallic but the water seemed clean, she could even smell the tangy wood smoke residue in it from the kettle that they’d boiled it in over the fire back at camp…. She took a swig, swallowed… then took a deep breath and it nearly blew her fucking mind.

She could smell everything.... 

The scent of layers of sweat and oil on the bodies around her rose like vapor into the air, and the warm, spicy, enticing musk of male sweat wafted across to her from Monroe like some wonderful, irresistible perfume and she pulled it in, rolling it over her senses until the hairs on her arms stood up, her nipples pebbled and she was suddenly so wet, so fucking ready… She looked up at him, sending him her need, her want, her hunger… 

His eyes widened, ignited, a blazing, searing blue, his nostrils flaring and all she could see was him, the air between them drawn tight, like a string joining them, pulling them together… 

She gathered herself, her legs bunching to push past her mom and… 

Shit... 

Charlie caught herself just in time, her hands clenched into fists with the effort, her heart pounding… What the fuck was happening to her? She was rolling in front of Monroe like a cat in heat, had almost thrown herself on him in front of her mom? So not a good thing… 

She took a smaller, shallower breath this time, her heart pounding, ignoring her mom’s puzzled and slightly suspicious eyes and trying her best not to look at Monroe, who was just standing there behind her mom, looking like everything she’d ever wanted, ever needed… 

And she knew that he knew it, his hands were fisted too, his whole body tense, his eyes darting to Rachel and back to her with a promise and a searing and rueful regret lighting those blue depths…later… 

She nodded, accepting the promise, knowing that something had changed for both of them in that moment… She nodded again…there would be a later, she knew it now… After they found Miles.

He stepped back a little, giving her room and Charlie found that she could focus on the little things, safer things rather than him. And gradually the smells from the worn, weather beaten leather of boots and jackets with traces of plants, whiskey and last nights meal tickled her nose, and she found the travel stained denim of their jeans, the oil that Monroe used to clean his swords, the remnants of old blood on the hand grips and scabbards, the liniment that her mom used on her bad knee, were all fascinating, amazing, richly layered, although not nearly as fascinating as him…

She lifted her face into the breeze and took a deeper breath to try and clear her mind, then another, tasting the air as it flowed in through her nose, her mouth, over her tongue… 

And then she smiled. Because something she tasted in that breath was so wonderfully familiar it raised goose bumps along her arms and sent hope leaping up into her throat…

‘It’s Miles…’ She looked up and met a pair of bottomless, searching, blue eyes. ‘Bass, I can smell him… It’s Miles,’ she didn’t even notice that she’d called him that, she was too busy scrambling to her feet, grabbing her bag and bow from where they’d fallen, tossing them over her shoulders and sniffing the air to make sure she had the direction, although she knew she was right…

Rachel had been staring at her all this time as though she were something in one of her test tubes, but she grabbed Charlie’s arm, her face tense, fixed on one word, ‘Miles? What are you talking about, Charlie?’

Charlie laughed, exhilaration flooding her body along with a feeling of strength, power…’I’m a tracker, Mom, I’m tracking Miles…’ She set off at an easy lope, following the scent, mildly surprised when the others fell behind, not able to keep up. She spared a look back at the increasingly distant and now equally worried faces.

They were so slow, even him… 

She grinned, sharp, with a trace of an almost feral snarl, her blood coursing like liquid fire and her legs strong and wanting to go, to make him chase her, follow her, try to catch her... 

She laughed and felt a howl building in her throat… ‘Come on, it’s this way…’ And then she turned and ran, the wind rushing past her, the scents of bird, deer, rabbit, the earth and grass under her feet filling her senses. The river was off to her right, not far, the water smelling of fish, waterweeds, birds, and the dampened fur of animals going down for a drink. And…somewhere downstream there was something dead in the shallows, the body rotting and flesh falling from the bones sending the sweet, oily, horrible smell of death into the air. She blew it out and away... Each incredible scent made a picture, an image in her brain, her mind cataloguing, assessing and sorting them into possible threats, potential prey, interesting facts…

And under all of it flowed the steady, unmistakable note that was Miles. She knew it from his few but welcome hugs, from long months of fighting next to him, of sleeping round campfires where they were all only a few feet from each other, from close quarters in safe houses, of riding in wagons next to him, of laughing and drinking with him. She knew it was him with a certainty that thrilled her... 

Then the grin left her face, because she recognized the metallic tang of blood on his scent too, a whole lot of blood… 

She turned around again, pausing, seeing them far behind her now… 

Why they were so slow? 

She yelled out, impatient…’Hurry, he’s hurt’

Bass was concentrating on running but he flashed a glance back at Rachel, ‘What the fuck’s happening?’ 

She shook her head, obviously struggling, her breath coming in harsh gasps, her steps labored… ‘Don’t know, but I… can’t… keep going much longer…’

He nodded and left her, calling back…’I’ll keep after her, you follow us, she can’t possibly keep that pace up for long…’ 

‘Ok…’ Rachel stopped, panting and out of breath, her hands braced on her knees, helpless… Watching him go because Charlie was already out of sight, damn it…

……………………………………….

Priscilla smiled and stretched, very pleased... Her first subject was making excellent progress and it was time to move to a second. She reached for one of the comic books, her fingers ruffling through the yellowed pages until she found the picture she wanted. Then she smiled again, her teeth very white in the dimly lit room. Perfect…

………………………………………..


	2. Broad Shouldered Beasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:   
> Hi there and thanks so much for having a look at this, and for your lovely thoughts and comments on part 1, I really, really appreciate them… ☺ I don’t own any part of Revolution and am writing this purely for love of the show and its characters. The titles of the story and chapters are from songs by Mumford and Sons. 
> 
> I am doing another story for LemonSupreme’s birthday, but my muse was misbehaving and I haven’t got it ready!! So I’d just like to take this opportunity to wish you a wonderful birthday Lemon, and I hope you enjoy this chapter... :)

Miles lay back against the rubble on the floor of his prison, hungry, beyond thirsty, every tiny bit of him aching, bruised, bleeding or a combination of all three. Every now and then he found himself staring at the stupid fucking poster of a kitten hanging on by its claws to something and the large, friendly letters that told him to hang in there and wishing he had the energy to throw something at it. Or that he had more fucking bullets… 

He winced as the damned sword slash throbbed again and decided that he would cheerfully trade one of his balls, hell, maybe even both of them seeing as how they wouldn’t be any more use to him, for some whiskey – even one of those stupid miniature bottles his mom used to buy to whomp up the Christmas pudding.

He made a huge effort and lifted his arm, pointed his pistol at the poster and mimed a shot… 

Then he looked at the gun. There was just one bullet left and he’d almost decided it was time to use it because he couldn’t see any fucking way he was going to get out of this one, or how anyone was going to find him down here. If anyone was still looking that is… A dry laugh rattled his chest, and it felt like thick, dry ashes in his mouth.

So this was it… 

He’d somehow pictured himself dying in battle, like one of Bass’ civil war Generals, like a Marine… not trapped down in an old cellar like a Matheson shaped rat. 

He put the gun down and considered his soul. His was stained blacker than the devil’s woolly armpit and he wasn’t expecting any pearly gates or angels playing fucking harps when he went. Miles Matheson, the Butcher of Baltimore had done way too many bad things in his life for that. And when he thought of his many sins the one that burned blackest in his mind was betraying Ben with Rachel - and burning that fucking shed to the ground hadn’t changed a damn thing. His guilt still felt like a rock in his belly, a heavy weight on his heart and the thought that Ben had known what he’d done still haunted him... 

And now, he was leaving Rachel again, third time maybe paying for all… Leaving Bass too, just when he thought things were maybe getting better, that the two of them had somehow found a way to be brothers again… 

And then there was Charlie. 

Fierce, loyal, honourable Charlie… 

The one thing that he was proud of in this whole fucked up world was promising that he wouldn’t leave her back after Maggie died…

His fingers scrabbled around in the rubble next to him and found a shard of something that felt hard enough and with a heavy hand he started scratching a message on the wall, the letters scrawled, misshapen but readable… 

’I’m sorry…’ 

……………………………………..

Bass was running as fast as he could, his chest heaving and his muscles feeling like they were burning up but even so he was only just able to keep Charlie in sight. He was sure that she wasn’t going as fast as she could either, that she was letting him keep up, her glances back over her shoulder told him that too, her eyes gleaming through the morning mists and a little smile curving those gorgeous lips. 

With the small part of his mind not occupied with just keeping his legs going he thought about Aaron, about the Nano bringing him back to life and the weird, impossible things that happened back in that boatyard after the Texas Monroe massacre and his subsequent resurrection thanks of all people to Rachel. And wasn’t that a surprise, although he was pretty sure now that Charlie was the one asked her to do it, not Miles... Charlie had a sense of honour and loyalty and courage that he’d almost given up on finding again…

Anyway, it was the only possible explanation for what was happening to Charlie, and if the Nano was somehow helping them find Miles then he for one was fucking grateful. 

Up ahead of him, Charlie’s hair streamed behind her in long streaks shining gold in the morning sun, her slim form racing ahead of him as though she was on springs. 

If he was honest and maybe it was time for that, she had been in his dreams for a long, long time and if he was right about what had happened back there, and he was pretty sure he was, then she wanted him too…

She hadn’t been with Connor again. He knew that for sure, not since that time in New Vegas. He knew rejection and frustration when he saw it and it was written all over his son’s face.

Bass ran harder, faster, ignoring his fatigue, his heart pounding and his dick hard in his pants. The moment back there where she’d looked at him as though he was a meal she wanted to feast on was pounding through his mind and his body with every fucking step he took and he’d be damned if he lost her now, not after the promises she’d made him with those eyes…

……………………………………

At the safe house, Priscilla smiled. Gratitude was nice. It made her feel… generous…yes. She took a sip of the water Aaron had brought her, went back to her reading and shrugged. Aaron still hadn’t managed to bring her a pizza, she was considering going for a walk and finding her own. 

……………………………………

Something tripped him up and Bass went flying, the ground meeting him with a thump that shook his bones and drove the air out of his lungs. He lay there winded, gathering his strength to get up and go again when he felt something rush through him, a wave of heat that travelled bubbling and turbulent from his toes up to the top of his head then down again, leaving him gasping and blind, flapping like a fish on a hot stone…

When it passed, he lay there, stunned, his whole body buzzing with an energy he hadn’t felt since he was a fucking teenager, and if this was what had happened to Charlie, then … 

With a thought he was on his feet, so fast his eyes widened in surprise. His clothes felt tighter, the legs of his jeans stretched around his thighs and calves, his butt, his shirt straining over chest and arm muscles that had bulked up like he’d been working out for months… He reached up and felt his shoulder, the scars from his whipping at Casa Nunez were still there although flatter now, the skin smoother, and he could move his shoulders easily, the stiffness and tightness of the massed streaks of scar tissue just…gone… 

He stretched his left arm out, almost afraid to look and found the skin of his forearm taut and smooth, the scars that had masked his tattoo smoothed out although still there, like tattoos themselves and for a moment he felt a renewed sense of loss, until he looked closer and saw the circled M there, a pale, lined shadow under his skin, like creased newsprint… He touched it with a fingertip and it felt smooth too…. Then he noticed his hands, the fingers were long and as fine as they’d always been, but his nails had a strange silvery sheen, and they were longer, thicker, felt harder. He ran a hand up over his hair - it was longer too, the curls thicker, shit...

Then he caught a familiar scent on the air although he hadn’t known it was familiar until just that moment…and he felt her close by, the hairs on his neck lifting and the rich, overwhelming scent of her skin, her hair, her arousal teasing his nostrils until he could almost, almost taste her on his lips… He looked up. 

Charlie was standing a few yards away, watching him, her eyes wide… Then she blinked, her full lips curving in a smile that rocked his world and set his pulse ringing in his ears like the bells of glory. 

‘I looked back and you weren’t there, so I came to find you…’ Her eyes roamed over his body and the smile got wider, her dimple flashing and the tip of her tongue slowly tasting her bottom lip, ‘so are you coming or are you just going to stand there playing with yourself…’

Bass felt the air leave his lungs for the second time, his belly shoving it out as his whole damn body tensed up ready to rock and roll because he was so fucking close to coming just from her scent and looking at that luscious mouth, imagining it wrapped around his dick, with those long, strong legs spread around his shoulders as he licked and sucked and devoured her sweet pussy…

She laughed, her eyes on his crotch, the glint in them pure lust… ’Hold on to that thought, Monroe.’ She lifted her face to the wind and took a long breath in… ’C’mon, we need to hurry, he’s bleeding again…’ then she turned and was just gone…

But this time he caught her, his whole body fucking buzzing with the thrill of running neck and neck with her, the ground a blur under their feet, the trees beside the road phasing into one another like they were moving at warp speed. 

She spared him a glance, her eyes a hot challenge, narrowed against the wind. Then she pushed on the speed.

He matched it, and more, his longer legs making the difference, but then he caught himself and slowed down, keeping with her. This was one time he really didn’t want to piss Charlie Matheson off… 

…………………………………………

Priscilla smiled. This experiment was very entertaining. She patted her pile of comics and started considering expanding her number of subjects.

……………………………………….

The old house was almost completely flattened now, part of a couple of walls still standing, the chimney, bits of twisted metal frame and furniture remnants all overgrown with weeds and shrubs. It looked abandoned, empty, just another ruin in a landscape of ruins.

‘So how are we going to get him out?’ Charlie stepped carefully around the outer edges, looking for a way in that wouldn’t end up with Miles buried under a pile of bricks and rubble…

Bass was trying not to breathe too hard, the scent of old and new blood, of sweat, body fluids and despair was floating up from under the collapsed house like some kind of awful miasma. It was so strong, so thick that his stomach was churning, and by the look on Charlie’s face she was fighting nausea too… He crouched at the edge of the fallen wall. He couldn’t see any easy way to get underneath and really didn’t know how Miles could still be alive down there. 

He was though, just, the thud of a heart beating was faint but he could hear it... ‘If we can lift a corner, I’ll go in and get him.’

She frowned, ‘it could fall in on both of you.’

Bass looked at her, after all the running and the exhaustion of the last few days, shit, try the last few months, she was looking bright and full of energy despite the worry for Miles – and their astonishing, breakneck run getting here. He was feeling good too, no, much, much better than good, there hadn’t been this much energy running round his body since he and Miles had been kids playing toy soldiers all day without stopping for breath or his mom’s lemonade back in Jasper. 

Whatever had happened, however it had happened, he for one was loving it. 

‘Not if we’re careful…’ Then, concentrating on the faint heartbeat from below, walking a little way to the left and right to triangulate, he worked out where Miles was then looked up and met her eyes. He’d felt her watching him, felt her curiosity, knew when the penny dropped. 

She nodded, determination on her face now, ‘Ok, let’s do it’ 

Bass looked around, spotted a pile of steel purlins lying nearby from the fallen roof, walked over and picked a couple of them up so easily he almost fell backwards onto the grass because instead of steel it felt like they were made of thin cardboard. He felt Charlie’s eyes on him…

‘It’s the nano isn’t it?’ her voice was calm, sure… ‘Like with Aaron, it brought him back to life and it’s done… this… to us’

He lifted the corner beams of the wall blocking their way to Miles with one hand, sliding a purlin underneath with the other. The tortured wall groaned and dust puffed from little cracks in the lining and from the mortar between the bricks, but it stayed together, for now anyway. He grinned at her ‘I’m not complaining, are you?’

She shook her head, ‘no, it’s incredible…’

He caught her eyes for a moment, ‘we don’t know how long it’s going to last though, so let’s get this done, ok?’ 

She stared, then nodded, ‘You’re right, I’ll get another one of those…’ She went over to the pile and lifted one of the metal girders as easily as he had, bringing it over to him. 

The gap wasn’t quite large enough for him to get through yet, so he levered in a second purlin, then the third…very, very carefully.

‘Hey, what’s happening up there?’ Miles sounded so weak, his voice so cracked and dry that Bass felt his heart jump and when he met Charlie’s eyes he saw his own fear reflected there…

He looked down through the clouds of dust falling into the hole from movement of the wall and could just make out a dusty, crumpled figure down at the bottom. Bloodstains were everywhere, dried and fresh, splattered on the fallen chairs and bits of wood scattered over the floor. It looked like Miles had tried to climb out way more than a couple of times, then collapsed when it didn’t work… in fact he’d couldn’t remember seeing Miles look so close to dead, even after that time in Philly… ‘It’s me, Bass, and Charlie... hold on brother, we’re getting you out of there’

‘About fucking time…’ Miles managed a half laugh, ‘I was thinking of cutting you out of my will…’

Bass pulled a bandana from his pocket and tied it round his nose and mouth. Then he took off his sword and gun belts and handed them to Charlie, and pulled his spare tee out of his pack, shoving it down the front of the one he had on, ‘Never leave a man behind, Miles…’

There was a dry, dusty chuckle… ‘I knew I should have listened to the kitten…’

Charlie leaned over, looking down at him, her eyes worried…’Miles? What do you mean? What kitten?’

‘The kitten on the wall, Charlie, it’s been staring at me this whole fucking time. Hey, Bass, you got any whiskey?’

Bass shook his head, choking off a laugh, ‘It’s a picture, Charlie… don’t worry, I don’t think he’s crazy.’ He shrugged, ‘not any more than usual anyway.’ Then he slipped out of his leather jacket, put it next to his pack and carefully slid his legs down through the hole, angling his torso and shoulders through. Then he looked back at her ‘I’ll pass him up to you, ok?’

She nodded, still worried… ‘Yeah.’

He dropped through and landed on the ground, knees bending to take the fall and the impact sending puffs of dust and dirt rising around him from the filthy floor. He got his balance, pulled the bandana down off his face then checked on Miles, who was still looking quite a bit more than half dead but a lot more cheerful. Then when he looked around, the ‘hang in there’ poster on the wall looked back at him, ‘nice kitty, Miles…’

‘Ha…’ Miles pulled his gun out, his aim shaky but true, ‘I can shoot it now, don’t need the bullet anymore…’

Bass leapt the couple of steps across to him and took the gun, ‘whoa, no shooting anything, you’ll bring the roof down and we’ll both end up dead.’

Miles shrugged, ‘ok’ then he looked at Bass, his eyes very serious. ‘Bass, I’d given up, was gonna use the gun on myself,’

Bass nodded, passing him his flask, watching as Miles sucked on it like a baby with a bottle… ‘I know, been there too remember? And you came for me then. Now show me the damage…’ He pulled the spare tee out and crouched down, peeling back the stiff fabric of Miles’ shirt to look at the slice on his side. ‘Guy got you a good one, didn’t he?’

Miles licked his lips, wincing as the alcohol bit the cracks…‘What can I say, he was good, I was better…’

Bass huffed, taking the bandana off and folding it into a pad, he glanced up at Miles, ‘you ready?’

Miles nodded, ‘yeah, do it’

Bass pressed the cloth pad onto the angry looking still seeping wound then quickly reached around, wrapping the tee around Miles’ waist and tying the ends tight…

Miles sucked in a big breath, his face grey under the dirt….’shit…’

Bass looked at him…‘You ok to go?’

‘Hell yeah, the service in this place sucked until you arrived… but just give me a minute, ok?’

Bass nodded, grinning, ‘Ok,’ then he looked round, ‘stay there, I’ll make us a staircase…’ There was a pile of fallen concrete risers in one corner and he grinned again. Before his little Nano makeover, he wouldn’t even have tried it but now… He carried a few of them over, easily piling them up into rough steps under the hole in the roof, meeting the anxious blue eyes looking down at him…

‘Is he ok?’

He nodded, ‘Yeah, but he’ll be better once we get him back to Gene, Charlie’ and damn if his heart didn’t start thumping it’s way out of his chest when he saw the smile in those eyes, on those lips, for him. He bathed in that smile for a couple of seconds, then turned and met another pair of eyes, brown ones this time, astonishment mixed with confusion and a kind of weird acceptance in those. 

‘How long have I been down here?’

‘Three days’

‘This is more of Rachel and Ben’s weird shit isn’t it.’

Bass helped Miles to his feet, ‘Yep… now let’s get you out of here’

…………………………………………

Between them Bass and Charlie carried Miles back to camp, although he was unconscious for most of it, his body finally giving into exhaustion and injury and the relief of being found. 

Connor took one look at them with Miles and left without saying a word. Bass didn’t follow him.

Rachel ran out to meet them, questions in her eyes that neither of them wanted to answer, but then she and Gene got busy looking after Miles and after that it was just them, standing there, waiting for one or other of them to make the first move.

Charlie cleared her throat, ‘you were good, back there…Bass…’ she turned to look at him, her eyes a clear, level blue, ‘you saved him’,

‘You were the one who tracked him, Charlie, not me.’ 

She shrugged, ‘the Nano did, without it we wouldn’t have found him.’

Bass took a small step closer, ‘you don’t know that, I’ve never known Miles to give up, he’d have worked out some way to get out, and then we’d have found him.’

Charlie shrugged again, ‘maybe…’ She looked around and sniffed, carefully, ‘You know, I didn’t realize just how awful this place smelled before.’

He laughed, ‘It is pretty bad.’

She handed him a hunk of Jerky from her pack, taking a bite from another strip, ‘at least jerky still tastes good…’ she examined the piece in her hand, ‘better even.’

He ate his own and she was right, it was pretty damn tasty, his tongue was tingling with the salty, smoky, meaty flavors, his nose savoring the scent of good protein, good fuel, his body taking it in, converting it to energy that he could feel surging through his blood, his bones, his flesh… He flexed an arm, the muscles sliding easily, smoothly under his skin, his fingers clenching into a tight, hard, fist, then as quickly letting go as sharp pains speared his palm. He watched, not quite believing, as little pools of blood where his nails had pierced him vanished back into his flesh, the skin closing behind them and sealing as if nothing had happened. 

He looked up to find Charlie watching him, her eyes wide and the strip of jerky forgotten in her hand…

‘Wow…’ she examined her own hands, ‘I wonder if I can do that?’ then she looked around the camp, their little band of people doing the usual things, cleaning weapons, tack, grooming the few horses they had, sitting around talking, eating. 

She turned back to him, ‘do you want to go for a swim?’ then she grinned. ‘I’ll race you to the river…’

………………………………………………

Bass ran alongside her, wanting her to choose the direction, the path, for her to take him where she wanted to go because this was all new ground for him, all of it. This thing had been building up between them for so long now he didn’t really know where or when it had started, nor did he know where it was all going but at this moment he didn’t give a damn as long as she was there, as long as they were somewhere together.

The ground was a blur under their feet and the wind whistled past, its messages of scent and sound passing over taste buds into tongue, palate, ear, into nostrils flung wide to take in as much air as humanly fucking possible… Eyes half closed, Bass ran on following in her slip stream, following the warm, wet, totally luscious scent of her. The heat of thigh rubbing on thigh, the sturdy blue scent of denim, friction hot and damp at the crotch with the thick, fragrant juices of her sex filling his senses, all of it surrounding him.

He dropped back a little to watch her ass, the full globes bunching and releasing as she ran, her long, strong legs tireless and beautiful, the little strip of skin between tank and jeans teasing him with the need to touch it, run his fingers and lips over it, his tongue tasting it... Then the tantalizing scent of the skin at her armpits and under her breasts caught in his throat, her clothes so much a part of her that they knew each smooth contour by heart. His breath caught when he realized that that was how much he wanted to know her, by heart.

She turned her face to him, her eyes glowing, lips curved in a smile that trapped him like a fish in a net.

The river was close now, the air full of moisture drawn up by the sun and carried off in breezes that flew over grass and tree, caressed skin and fur, collected pollen, insects… it was alive with scent, with life.

She’d taken them to a rock pool, its steep sides rising around them like castle walls, the water turquoise in the sun, pthalo blue in the shade. A waterfall on their left dropped from the high rocks in cascades that sank into the still waters without a trace, then travelled gently to the other side of the pool dropping to an unseen river shaded by lines of trees that disappeared off into the distance.

She led them down a faint trail to a shallow beach of creamy sand, smooth and cool and beautiful, rocks and stones in the shallows reflecting opal colors with the splash and rainbow flash of small fish busy catching flies.

Charlie stopped, a few feet away from him, kicking off her boots and sinking her toes into the sand with a sigh of pleasure.

Bass did the same, the skin of his feet tingling as they sank into the sand, little currents travelling up the inside of both legs to his spine, his ass and balls, his cock…

Then she took off her pack and jacket, her tank following them to the sand, the light fabric drifting down, somehow holding the shape of breast and belly.

He did the same, his shirt and tee floating a little down past his pack, and the breeze like warm, sun sweet silk on the bare skin of his chest and back.

Then her knives and chain belt fell with small sounds like chiming bells.

His swords and gun belt were next, placed carefully down on his jacket to stop the sand getting in.

She kept her eyes on his, a tense, electric awareness building between them, a sense of something about to happen, something that would change everything… Then she reached behind her back and undid her bra, the cups falling forwards and her shell pink, pebbled nipples were suddenly there, in front of his eyes.

His hands reached out towards them, helpless, without him knowing, although he didn’t tell them to stop.

Then she smiled and took a step towards him, dropping the bra and undoing the belt and zip of her jeans as she did, the worn fabric falling from her hips and down her thighs, framing creamy skin and the golden curls of her pussy in pale blue folds and the thick leather of her belt…

Bass somehow remembered to breathe as she stepped out of her jeans, kicking them away, her strong, lithe body totally bare and totally fucking beautiful. ‘Charlie…’

She came closer and reached for his belt and the catch of his pants, undoing them both with quick, impatient fingers, one hand stroking up his chest, spreading over his pecs and playing with a small nipple, the fingers of her other hand plunging down inside his pants as soon as there was room, taking the thick, hard, shaft of his cock in her hand and stroking him up and down, her breasts rising quicker with her breath and her teeth chewing her lower lip as her thumb played with the thick ridge of his cock head, the smooth helmet with its oh so sensitive tip. Then she took her hand back, reaching between her own legs and the slick lips of her pussy, gathering the juices there, sending her glistening fingers flashing in front of his eyes and lips before slipping them back down inside his pants, her fingers sliding over his cock like sweet heaven itself…

He gasped, his belly tight as a drum, his ass clenched, thrusting against her hand, fighting hard not to come way too fucking soon over her hand, but he could smell her, taste her, and his senses swam with her this close…. 

She smiled up at him, her eyes narrowed, hot, her hand hard, demanding... ‘What are you waiting for, Monroe? Orders?’

He growled, yanking his jeans off, not taking his eyes off hers… Then he hooked his arms under her thighs and lifted her high, doubling her, her ankles hooking over his shoulders, her hands frantically reaching around his neck, holding on to him, her wild laugh music in his ears... 

He slid her down, his cock waiting for her, one of his hands reaching underneath to make sure she found him...

And then, she was sliding down over him, sweet and so tight, his cock sinking into her slick warmth until his balls were nestled into the smooth, hot valley of her ass, the first full stroke inside her like trumpets sounding, like huge waves breaking, both of them gasping with the feel of it, like everything he’d known it could be between Bass Monroe and Charlie Matheson.

And he watched as her eyes grew hazy, glazed, her mouth open, her tongue dipping out to moisten her lips as he lifted her up and down, her breasts cushioned between her knees, her feet hooked around the back of his neck, the long muscles of her legs flexing against his chest as he fucked her… Going slow at first, long, deep strokes that circled her clit against the root of his cock, a slowly building friction that had them both panting… Then he took them faster, deeper, his hands hard on her hips, his fingers gripping her flesh, holding her steady while he thrust inside, harder, faster.

She was making little helpless sounds in time with his thrusts, her eyes wide, fixed on his, and he could see the sensations building in her eyes, her pupils blown, could feel her toes curling behind his neck, the muscles of her ass tensing in his hands as she got closer.

Then he saw the moment that she came, her eyes going wide as the wave of pleasure hit and he rocked her through it, thrusting deep inside her to keep it going for her, and when he felt her go limp around him, the wave passing over, he lifted her off him, his cock thrusting between her tight ass cheeks enough to bring his own release flying in hot spurts into her hair and trickling down the smooth, golden skin of her back and ass.

He lowered them both to the sand, holding her in his arms because he didn’t want to fucking let her go in case this turned out to be some sort of fever dream… 

Then she turned to him, her eyes smiling, lazy and soft with the aftermath, and she reached over, pulling him down for a kiss, her breath warm and sweet against his lips, ‘That was pretty good,’ Then she leaned back and gave him one of her wicked smirks…’but I know you’ll do better next time.’

……………………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I’m pretty sure there’ll be more to this, because the Nano is being a bit tricksy. I also love writing sensory enhanced Bass and Charlie lol! Not that either of them need any enhancing really…


	3. Part 3, Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:   
> Hi there and thanks so much for having a look at this, and for your lovely thoughts and comments on part 2, I hope you like this too. ☺ I don’t own any part of Revolution and am writing this purely for love of the show and its characters. The titles of the story and this chapter are from songs by Mumford and Sons.

By dawn the next morning Miles was looking and sounding a lot better, but then he’d always had a cast iron constitution. It had been touch and go for a while there though and Gene and Rachel had worked through the night to get on top of things while ignoring Miles’ loud and persistent pleas for whiskey. Bass had considered sneaking him some in more than a couple of times, but with Rachel standing guard over her patient like a fucking mother hen he hadn’t had a chance - even with dragon lady still grateful, puzzled and suspicious but grateful. He chuckled, wondering how long that was going to last..

He looked around for Charlie. Before coming back to check on Miles, they’d spent some time down at the river, testing their limits… He grinned. They hadn’t actually found any, not yet anyway, except that they were both finding it really hard to be around too many people, Charlie more than him... 

Then he spotted her standing right at the edge of camp, arms crossed and tapping her foot, her eyes glinting at him. He could see her breathing shallow, not that he blamed her, these days almost everything human stank even without super noses. Then he chuckled, thinking back to earlier at the river, to her. Some things still smelled pretty fucking good though, especially sex, especially her…

She tipped her head in a come on, dimple flashing…

Bass looked back at the shelter they’d rigged up where Miles was sleeping at last. Gene had given him one of his potions before they cleaned out the wound because they all knew it was going to hurt like a bitch but with typical Matheson stubbornness, Miles had held out, fighting to stay awake for as long as he could… 

Now Rachel was dozing in a chair next to Miles with Gene stretched out on a bedroll on the other side. He chuckled. His brother was safer than Fort Knox between those two, for the time being anyway, they still had to deal with the Patriots, and Texas – and Tom Neville was still out there somewhere too and he’d already tried to kill Charlie once. The blue eyes went very, very cold, he wasn’t going to get another chance…

He looked around for Connor but there was still no sign of him. His son was still off somewhere in the wind then… sulking maybe? It was very obvious to Bass now that Connor was majorly jealous of Miles, and maybe he had cause to be. Connor had said that he’d only been a father for five minutes, and he was right about that too, he didn’t know much about being a father. But he and Miles had had close to forty years of watching each other’s backs and fighting alongside each other as kids and in war after war before and after the blackout before fighting each other over some stupid thing and through it all they’d been brothers, family, with bonds way too strong to break… And now there was Charlie too. 

It seemed like he was fated to love Mathesons… 

But Connor was his son, his only child, the only thing he had to give to the future and he wished that things were different, that they’d had the chance to get to know each other, that he hadn’t brought his son into a war where the odds were good to certain that all of them would end up dead. 

He started walking, nodding at Scanlon and Duncan’s people, their people now, gathering round the fires for hot soup and coffee… 

It was his own fault that Connor had taken the thing about remaking the Republic to heart, and it was up to him to sort it out, to tell him it wasn’t going to happen, because regardless of what he’d said to Connor earlier to get him on board, Bass had been there already and it had failed. 

Besides, things had changed and there was something he wanted a whole lot more than trying to take back power that had turned to ashes, literally...

He took a deep breath, and walked faster, Charlie was here, now, and he couldn’t believe his luck that somehow she wanted him.

……………………………………….

Priscilla watched them and smiled. They were excited, happy, enjoying their new bodies, their new senses. It was extremely satisfying. She turned her attention back to her new subject. He was isolated at the moment, on his own. Perfect. 

………………………………………

Aaron took some more tea in for the thing inhabiting his wife’s body and Priscilla’s mouth smiled at him. Priscilla’s voice said thank you and Priscilla’s hands took the cup with his wife’s grace and a familiar crooked pinkie. He was suspicious though. Something was different. It was planning or doing something, but what? There’d been no more requests for pizza – or anything else for that matter, in fact the nanotech had been wearing that unnerving smile almost non-stop, and it was being way too nice.

He didn’t want to disturb Rachel at the moment to ask for her help, not with Miles the way he was, and Charlie was off somewhere with Monroe - and by the way, what the fuck was that?

He took another slug from his battered silver flask, grateful for that at least… Whiskey was the only thing currently keeping him from crawling off into a corner and chewing his toenails. 

He was going to have to sort it out himself, somehow…

………………………………………

Connor sat on a log, brooding. He’d made himself a camp out of sight of the others – not too far, but far enough that he didn’t have to watch all the ridiculous fuss over fucking Miles Matheson. He ate some jerky, heated up water for some of the coffee he’d traded for in town and kept on brooding. While he ate, he flipped his knife in one hand, catching it by blade then handle, handle then blade, working on his skills...

Why were they still here anyway? He and Monroe should be off gathering soldiers for the Militia – but instead of that, his father, like Miles before him, had abandoned him – first for Miles and the psycho blond and now for Charlie. His supposed father had given up on the Militia and real power for a war that was hopeless without troops, without soldiers. There was no way they could possibly win, not like this. 

He hissed at a bad catch, the knife slipping and bright blood spurting from his thumb… ‘Shit…’ He sucked it but when he looked again blood was still pouring out of the gash like a river of red. He reached for his pack and an old piece of towel to wrap it up until his knife was hot enough to sear it closed because he would really rather bleed to death than ask psycho Rachel and her father for help.

He had the rag in his hand when he felt himself burning up... his toes first, then fiery pain shot up through his veins to the top of his head like fucking lava before searing down again, leaving him fallen off his log onto the ground, gasping like an idiot and sure that he’d pissed himself. 

He lay there for a moment getting his breath back, cautious about moving just in case he’d had a heart attack or something, although he actually felt great, not sick at all… He tried sitting up, carefully at first, then grinning as he found his whole body buzzing with energy and a hard on like a log in his pants.

‘Wow…’ he looked around, everything was brighter, clearer, and he swore he could see further and sharper than before, and the coffee smelled absolutely fucking amazing. Then he frowned, looking down at the unbroken, unbloodied skin of his thumb then checked the other hand just in case he was addled and had forgotten which thumb he’d cut. It was the same, no sign of blood… What the fuck?

Then he remembered his dad coming back to camp last night, carrying Miles as though he weighed nothing at all, looking ten years younger, stronger, bigger than just a few hours before, as if he’d found a Bruja who’d cast a youth spell on him rather than been out searching for his precious Miles for days on end…

Connor got to his feet, the coffee forgotten, reaching for his sword belt and strapping it on. His blood was singing in his veins and he felt like he could do fucking anything, fight anyone, fuck anyone… It was a high like nothing he’d ever felt before, not whiskey or weed or the heroin he’d tried back in Mexico, not even fucking... None of them came anywhere close. He felt powerful, strong, invincible, totally macho.

He sniffed the air... and it was like a map suddenly appeared in his brain, scent trails leading back to the camp, the blond bitch, Miles and the old man, and beyond, to Charlie – and his dad... 

He smiled, although his eyes were hard. He wanted answers, reasons, and knew just where to start...

……………………………………

Bass had Charlie bent face down over an old table in a cabin they’d found in the woods, her arms stretched out above her head, fingers scrabbling at the old wood, her hair like a dirty blonde curtain over her shoulders. He was listening to her purr, her breath catching as he stroked his hands over the taut, smooth, golden skin of her back, the soft globes of her ass and down the long, strong thighs to the bundled pile of her jeans around her calves, his lips and teeth following his hands leaving a trail of little sucking bites on her skin… 

He sank to his knees behind her, hands spread over her ass, his thumbs spreading her out so he could see all of her. His cock rock hard, jutting out in front of him, heavy and veined, his balls and belly tight with anticipation… He leaned forward and blew softly along her cleft, from the puckered whorl of her ass to the petals of her sex, the clean, sultry scent of her filling his mind until all he could feel was her…

She moaned above him, the muscles of her legs tight, her clit pulsing as he watched and little tremors winking her ass, her pussy, her flesh trembling, beautiful…

He bit down on one springy cheek then the other, his teeth leaving marks like roses behind them that faded as he watched… Fuck he wanted to devour her, eat her whole until she was a part of him… She was like a fever in his blood and he wanted her all to himself, all the time, and it was getting harder and harder to think about their stupid little war, about the crazy Patriots, about anything except her.

He ran his tongue from her clit up to her liquid core, delving inside her slick centre, feasting on her… She tasted and smelled so fucking sweet. Sweet… and fertile… and for a moment the urge to fill her with his seed, to fill her with life was almost overwhelming, almost irresistible – an actual need, a drive that stunned him with the power of it.

He stood up again with his cock so fucking hard it gave a totally new meaning to stiff, and slid his fingers down her crack to her clit…

She thrust back against him, slick and hot and deliciously wet and when he slid a couple of fingers inside her she gasped, pushing back harder against his hand so his fingers went deeper, harder. 

Her hands clenched on the table, the pink tip of her tongue flicking out over her lips, ‘Shit…Bass,’ her eyes were gleaming through strands of her hair, the blue of them hot, intense and dark in the shadows of the cabin, ‘quick…’

When he rolled her clit with another finger, her whole body jerked against his hand and he laughed, deep in his throat. She was beautiful all the time, but fuck, she was amazing like this… He pulled his fingers back and slid home, his cock sliding into her tight, wet, heat as smoothly as a wet dream… 

And then he stopped thinking, just feeling her beneath him, her body lithe and strong, their hands joined, lips joined, her body writhing as he moved in and out, fucking her slowly, building it up until they were both panting, moaning, sweating, breath mingling in a tangle of limbs and hair, of hot, wet flesh, muscle and bone…

And somehow he managed to keep enough control to pull out just before he came, his seed covering her back and ass in creamy ropes that steamed in the cool air of dawn…

………………………………………

Priscilla frowned, pouting a little, the comic dropping to her lap. He was stronger than she’d expected, resisting her, resisting his own nature.... Then she shrugged, turning the page and focusing back on her story. There’d be another chance soon enough… 

……………………………………….

Charlie shrugged into her jacket then bent down to tighten her boots, her eyes gleaming up at him, her lips wicked as she looked… ‘I just want to check on Miles, Bass, I’ll be back in half an hour,’ She tipped her head out towards their campfire, ‘you can make us something to eat.’

Bass lounged on the table, gloriously naked, one hand playing with his thickening cock, ‘Miles is fine, Charlie.’ He sat up and swung his legs over the edge, ‘he’s got your mom and Gene fussing over him and they’d finally got him to sleep’ 

She grinned, ‘I want to see for myself,’ she walked over to him, reaching down to take his dick in her hand, her fingers wrapping around him, stroking… ‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ 

He leaned forward to kiss her, ‘be careful then, ok?’

She joined in the kiss, her lips warm and vibrant… then pulled back a little, ‘I can outrun almost anything, and I’d smell them before anyone got near me anyway, I’ll be fine’ She let go and patted his cock, gently, then stepped back, ‘I’m a big, bad girl, Bass,’

He grinned, ‘Yeah, I noticed.’

Then she was gone, little dust storms twirling in the air she was so fucking fast.

Bass pulled his pants on, shoved his feet into his boots and went outside into the clear morning air, slipping his arms into his shirtsleeves and buckling his sword belt as he went. They had beans, jerky and some spices, as well as a few potatoes and greens, enough to make a good, nourishing meal, although no one would call it gourmet…

Then he stiffened, there was someone close by, he could smell him, hear his heartbeat although he wasn’t exactly trying to be quiet. He turned towards the intruder, knowing who it was. ‘Connor, hi, it’s good to see you, ’

His son stepped out from the trees, ‘Hi dad’

‘How did you find us?’ There was something different about Connor, but Bass couldn’t quite put his finger on it…

Connor came closer, ‘I could smell you, both of you…’ his eyes narrowed, ‘isn’t she a little young, dad? Or is it just that she’s a Matheson?’ he smirked, ‘I mean, Miles has a girlfriend now doesn’t he, which leaves you down one.’

Bass sat down and started getting the food ready, focusing on chopping potatoes, the boy was jealous, angry, he didn’t know what he was saying... ‘That’s none of your business, Connor,’

Connor’s face grew hard, accusing, ‘Ok… Then why are we still here, dad? You and me. You said we’d get the Republic together again,’ he made an angry gesture towards the camp. ‘All this? It’s bullshit, there aren’t enough of us to fight a war clan let alone the Patriots and Texas. We could go get an army together and then come back and help your precious Miles…’ 

Bass nodded, ‘I know I said it,’ he looked at his son, ‘Connor, the Republic is dead, the bombs destroyed it’ He took a deep breath, his eyes haunted, ‘but what I can tell you is that when Miles and I started it all off, we had fewer good people around us than we’ve got now, so numbers aren’t always the most important thing…’ he shrugged, ‘although I’ve got to admit we could use a few more right now…’

‘So you lied to me’

‘Yeah, I lied to you’ Bass started chopping the jerky, ‘I lied to you because I wanted you with me, not Nunez, now sit down…’

Connor looked away, staying where he was. ’But then you chose Miles, and Charlie… not me’

Bass sighed, ‘I’m sorry,’ he stopped chopping, ‘maybe I just expected you to fall in line with us, be part of the family, it’s my fault, I didn’t know how to make you feel part of it...’

‘They’re not my family, dad,’ Connor was leaning forwards, his hands restless, his eyes angry, ‘and they’re not yours either. Every one of them has tried to kill you and none of them trust you, they’re not your family, I am, I thought the things you said in New Vegas meant something, but they didn’t, did they, because Miles is more important to you than me....’

‘There’s a lot you don’t understand, Connor,’ Bass put his knife down, this wasn’t going well, it sounded a lot like there was an ultimatum of some kind coming… He stood up.

Connor shook his head, ‘you’re so right about that,’ he pulled out his knife, cutting a slice along his forearm, blood streaming out then stopping almost immediately, vanishing back into his skin, the cut gone… ’I don’t understand this,’ he made another cut and watched as it bled then disappeared, then made another and watched it too… ‘But I like it, and it means that I’ve got power of my own now, so I don’t need you, or any of your precious family.’

Bass stared at him, ‘it’s the nanotech, and we don’t know how long the effect’s going to last,’ 

Connor shrugged, ‘well, I’m going to make the most of it,’ he started to walk away, ‘maybe I’ll go see Carver, I’ve heard that Texas pays well.’

Bass followed him, ‘Connor? Let’s talk about it, please’ he put his hand on his son’s shoulder and even though his instincts tried to warn him, he still wasn’t prepared for the hard, fast fist that connected with his cheek, splitting the flesh, or the one after that that in the belly that winded him until his own nano enhanced body kicked in, repairing the damage…

He backed off, lifting his hands, ‘I’m not going to fight you, Connor.’

Connor faced him, his eyes hard, belligerent, his fists clenched, ‘why not, dad? You fight everyone else, why not me? You have before…’ his lips twisted, ‘you taught me how to fight you remember, even told me how to kill you or did the nano fix that too?’

Bass nodded, ‘they fixed it’

Connor drew his sword, crouching in a ready stance, ‘well that’s too bad, but maybe I’ve learned a thing or two of my own since then.’

Bass understood, he really did…‘You’re angry, Connor, and maybe you’ve got the right to be, but I’m not going to fight you, ‘ He turned away, and maybe he was prepared this time but it still hurt like all fuck when the blade sliced through his left bicep… 

He turned so he could see the next one coming, then backed up against a tree, holding on to the rough trunk with his good arm because his left was hanging useless still and he could feel shock spreading through him like a cold, sinking wave…

Connor kept coming towards him, his eyes wild, sword pointed straight at Bass’ throat in a strange replay of New Vegas…

Then out of nowhere, a figure came flying towards them, knocking a startled Connor off his feet, his sword clattering to the ground and his eyes fixed on the crossbow pointed at his head... 

‘What the fuck are you doing, Connor?’ Charlie’s eyes were furious but her voice was very, very cold. 

……………………………………………….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it. I always wondered what would happen if Connor confronted Bass, anyway, next chapter will be up soon - although I think there might be a one-shot or two happening as well, and another chapter for 'Islands'. cheers, Magpie


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:   
> Hi there, it’s been a really long time between updates so if you are still hanging in there, thankyou so much! I really appreciate it – and I’m totally chuffed that you like the story enough to come back… Thanks too for your lovely thoughts and comments on part 3, I hope you like this one. ☺ I don’t own any part of Revolution and am writing this purely for love of the show and its characters. The titles of the story and chapters are from songs by Mumford and Sons.

‘What the fuck are you doing, Connor?’ Charlie was furious but her voice was very, very cold. She kicked the sword further away and held the bow very steady, making sure she stayed out of reach while she glanced over at Bass. He was looking much better, flexing his arm, the blood gone. Which was damn lucky for Connor, because her finger was trembling on the trigger she was so close to letting go. He’d actually tried to kill Bass and that fucking pushed buttons she didn’t know she had...

Connor was backed up against a rock, his eyes wide and his hands and feet scrabbling in the dirt, ‘Charlie, stop…’

Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared, she could smell it in his sweat, the anger and confusion…the jealousy. ‘You ungrateful bastard…’

‘Me? Ungrateful?’ indignant, he flashed a heated look at Bass. ‘What about him? He found me, promised me everything, then just forgot all about me and ran off after you and Miles ’ Connor’s mouth twisted, his eyes stormy, ‘he’s the ungrateful one.’

Charlie’s lips tightened, and so did her finger on the trigger. ‘So you’re telling me you tried to kill him because you felt abandoned?’ 

‘Shit…’ Bass hurried across and put a hand on the crossbow, gently pushing it away, ‘Charlie, take it easy, please? He’s my son,’

She pulled it back to where it was, shaking her head. ‘I don’t care. He’s gone too far this time, Bass. We can’t trust him, what if he tries it again and the nano can’t heal you? What if he does something else?’

He kept up a gentle pressure, ‘Charlie, I care. Let it go? Please? I’m fine… and he’s right, I promised him everything and then I left him…’

She frowned, and grudgingly lowered the bow, her eyes hard, angry and still on Connor. ‘So what do you want to do with him?’

Connor started breathing again, leaning back against the rocks, wincing as a shard dug into his palm. He pulled his hand out and watched, his eyes going wide as the blood dripped and just kept dripping…

………………………………………

Priscilla frowned. The third subject had tried to spoil her experiment with the other two and she wasn’t pleased, he had obviously been a mistake. There were other options though. Perhaps it was time to reconsider a previous subject?

………………………………………

Miles opened his eyes with a snap… What the hell? He’d been dreaming of fucking fireflies… His eyes darted around, really hoping no one burst into flames because that would be very, very bad... But it all seemed calm and peaceful, as much as a ragged bunch of ex clan, ex-militia, ex rebellion fighters and various hangers on could be calm and peaceful...

Rachel saw him move and came over, a mug in her hand and a smile on her lips. ‘Hey there sleepy head… how are you feeling?’ She held the mug out towards him.

He took it, screwing his face up when he saw what was inside. ‘Pretty good actually… but I’d feel a whole lot better if this was whiskey instead of one of Gene’s potions…’

An eyebrow lifted and her lips twitched just a little, ‘No whiskey yet, Miles, Doctors orders. And that potion will help with the blood loss, so drink it…’ She carefully lifted the dressing over the wound in his side, looked, then went very still…

Miles took a sip, his lips curling, then downed the rest in one chug, making a face as he swallowed. ’So what’s the verdict? Will I be able to play the piano?’ He passed her the empty mug, coughing a little, ‘and by the way? That stuff is completely fucking disgusting.’

Her lips twitched just a little, ‘I know, it’s better with honey, but hey, no honey, and you don’t play piano anyway…’ She replaced the dressing, carefully not meeting his eyes, then felt his forehead with the back of her hand, ‘so how’s the pain?’

He shrugged then frowned, puzzled. ’There isn’t any.’ He ran a hand down to the dressing, lifted the pad and peered underneath, letting it slide to the ground as he stared at the clean, unmarked skin underneath. ‘What the fuck?’ His face went pale under the tan and he shuffled back on the camp bed as though he was trying to get away from something, almost tipping it over... ‘This is more of your nano shit isn’t it? Get them the fuck off of me…’ his voice got louder and he sat up, rubbing his hands over his arms and legs like he was brushing away ants.

Rachel blinked, ignoring him, her mind busy processing. ‘Miles, don’t be ridiculous, the nanotech’s everywhere remember? You can’t brush them off…’ She followed him up the bed, lifted his shirt and had another look at his side, running her fingers over the smooth skin…. ‘Look, there isn’t even a scar, the skin’s perfect…’

He stopped moving and scowled, ‘and quit doing that, you’re making me feel like an object.’ 

She looked up, an eyebrow tilted, a little impatient. ‘It seems to be experimenting, enhancing senses, amplifying physical abilities and healing ability in the people it chooses, those we know about anyway.’ She bent down to pick up the soiled dressing, folding it up and dropping it into a waste bag next to the bed. ‘It chose Charlie and Monroe, helped them find and rescue you. And now it’s done this. So what I’d like to know is why those two, why you?’ 

Miles took a breath, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, checking himself out. The scar on his hand was still there, ditto the ones on his shoulder, he still had the shrapnel marks on his hip too, and he felt behind his ear for the little scar from the time Bass had nicked him with his sword while they were sparring… it was still there along all the other scars from a lifetime spent fighting… ok…so he hadn’t been completely made over. He stopped himself just in time from checking things a bit lower down remembering that there were other people around. ’Rach… the healing bit I know I got, but I don’t think I got the enhanced senses… and the last time it picked me for something it set people on fire, remember?’ 

Rachel shrugged, thoughtful… ‘And saved your life.’

He met her gaze, thoughtful now too, ‘Yeah…’ Then he looked around the camp. If this was a warning, it actually made sense… For a start there were way too many people here, and they were all just wandering around like they were at a fucking backyard bbq. There was no order, no organization. He’d obviously been out of it for too long in that fucking basement and then here. He needed to get some discipline back into this lot, but where the fuck was Bass? And Charlie? Someone should have been getting things organized round here… The way it looked now, the Patriots could just waltz in and wipe out their entire resistance with one platoon and a donkey... 

He frowned, ‘so, if it’s a warning, we need to find out what it’s warning us about, which means getting some proper intel.’ He glanced back up at her, ‘maybe Gene could have another chat with Marion?’ He stood up, cautiously at first, then stretched out, his chest expanding with a luxurious breath that he let out in a long sigh, ‘I’ve gotta admit your little robot friends are good at their job, Rachel, I haven’t felt this good in years.’

Rachel studied him, an almost smile at the corners of her mouth and her eyes doing a sweep up and down. She shrugged, ‘well, your eyes aren’t bloodshot anymore and the bags underneath are gone, I’m pretty sure you’ve lost a few pounds here and there, and you could even be a little taller…‘ the smile got wider, then went again, ‘but I think I’ll ask Gene to give you a once over and then go find Aaron. We need to work out what’s happening.’

‘Sounds like a plan, although I don’t need Gene to tell me I’m fine...’ He reached for his coat, slipping his arms into the sleeves, then hesitated, ‘so where’s Bass?’ he frowned, ‘and Charlie?’

Rachel shrugged, ‘Haven’t seen much of either of them since they brought you in, ’ Her lips twitched like they did when she was stressed, ‘After the nano did whatever it did to her Charlie doesn’t much like coming into camp, says it smells bad and its too noisy, although she’s been in and out to check on you a few times…’ She glanced at Miles, then out to the trees beyond the camp, frowning. ‘She’s been hunting, leaves the meat at the gate. I think he’s with her – I don’t like it, but he did keep her safe before…’ she turned to Miles, ‘didn’t he?’

He nodded, trying to be reassuring although the thought of Charlie and Bass wandering around together voluntarily wasn’t exactly filling him with joy either. In fact he really didn’t know how he felt about that... ‘He’s saved her life way more than once, Rach... And he was really worried about her after we left Austin, after she killed the Neville kid. Worried that Tom was going to go after her. We all were...’ He shrugged, ‘and she seems to trust him, kinda, enough to work with him anyway…’

She glanced at him, ‘It’s gone way past ‘should I be worried,’ though, hasn’t it?’

He shrugged again, eyes full of irony…‘probably…’ 

Gene strode up to them, his lips tight and his whole body radiating irritation. ‘What the hell are you doing standing up, Miles, you idiot? You’ll re-open that wound...’ then whatever he was going to say next faded into silence as Miles lifted his shirt and showed him where the wound had been.

…………………………………………….

On a wooded rise overlooking the old chemical plant, Tom Neville lay behind some shrubs watching the pathetic rabble of rebels and traitors as they sat around eating and chatting like they were on a picnic. The fools didn’t even have lookouts posted up here so he’d have to wander round and find one himself to take him in to the camp. 

Rachel Matheson and her father were in the camp because he’d seen them, so Miles had to be around somewhere. Maybe in one of the shelters they’d rigged up... 

He lowered his field glasses and shuffled backwards to where he’d left his horse. 

Jason was dead. The Matheson girl had killed him and by now the Patriots had probably killed Julia too. His family were gone and he had nothing left, nothing but a plan. He was going to destroy the Patriots from the inside out until they were begging him to die. 

But he needed help to do it… a small, grim smile curve his lips. And these days his choices were limited. 

Monroe was nowhere to be seen either, not yet anyway although he and Miles were like planets orbiting one another, gravity seemed to pull them back together. Nor was the Matheson girl with her sweet as candy, murdering ass but she wouldn’t be far away from Miles and her mother either. 

So, all he needed to do to get close was demonstrate his very sincere repentance for almost shooting the Matheson chit, because after all he had just discovered the girl had killed his son, then wait for the opportunity to finish what he started in that safe house. Finish it for Jason. 

Repentance would get him in the door. An acceptable risk for a large gain, doing whatever it took. And it was lucky he had something useful to offer in the way of intel too because there was a distinct possibility that Miles would shoot him on sight before he could demonstrate anything, which was why he needed the lookouts – one could take a message in for him, prepare the way.

For a moment his face showed every line, every mark that grief and loss had etched there, his eyes haunted… Then he shook it all away and the practiced, oh so very genuine, insurance guaranteed smile spread across his face. 

He mounted up, time to go…

……………………………………………..

Gene hung the little cup on a rope he used as a (kind of) substitute stethoscope back around his neck. ‘I wish I knew how it happened, Miles, and I could say that I wish that it had happened to someone who actually deserved it, but you’re healthier than a horse, your heart sounds like it’s ready to run a marathon and your blood pressure is perfect.’ He shrugged, ‘which certainly wasn’t the case yesterday.’ He held a stick up at eye level in front of Miles’ face and waved it from side to side, watching the dark pupils as they followed it, ‘yesterday I’d have said you had a heart attack waiting to happen if your liver didn’t beat it to the post.’ Then he jerked back as the stick was unceremoniously brushed aside.

‘You have got to be fucking kidding me,’ Miles stared out of the tent as a very familiar figure walked towards them along the road into the camp, an equally familiar fake smile on the dark face, his hands high in the air as a couple of lookouts walked him in at gunpoint. It was Tom fucking Neville, large as life and twice as unwelcome. 

Miles looked around. There was still no sign of Charlie, which was a good thing right now, because if he was sure of anything, it was that Tom would try to kill her again.

He considered shooting him then and there, in fact his fingers had already wrapped themselves around the grip of his pistol, but another thing he was very sure of was that if Tom had let himself get caught, he had something important to bargain with, something important enough to risk his life and come walking in here after doing what he did to Charlie...

……………...........................................

Rachel found Aaron at the campfire, staring into the flames and chewing on a strip of jerky. He looked hunched over and anxious, but that seemed to be usual for him these days and she wasn’t really surprised, ‘Hey there…’

He looked around and swallowed, the sun reflecting off his glasses, hiding his eyes, ‘Hey yourself’

She waited, but he just turned back to the fire… ‘Aaron, are you ok?’

He shuffled his feet, ‘Yeah, but I’ve had better days.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘No… thank you.’ Aaron shook his head, quick, emphatic, avoiding her eyes.

Rachel chewed her lip for a moment, ‘The nano healed Miles, Aaron, not just healed him, it made him… better.’

He jumped, his glasses flashing again, ‘really?’ He was breathing fast, his mouth working…’why do you think it did that?’

‘I don’t know, I thought I’d ask you if you had any ideas’

He looked hunted, almost frightened, shaking his head… ‘No…no I don’t’ He backed away from her and turned to go ‘sorry, Rachel, I need to go, to the… You know…’ and he was gone.

She watched him as he hurried away. There was obviously something wrong that he didn’t want to talk to her about, and she was pretty sure it was something to do with the nano because he hadn’t been surprised when she asked, in fact there’d definitely been something furtive, secretive about him…

She gave him a small head start then followed.  
……………………………………………..

Priscilla smiled. Aaron was so sweet. She couldn’t understand why he was so scared of her though, she’d tried to be nice, to help and he had to know she loved him and wanted the best for him, for them all. Then her head tipped, as though she was listening to something. She put her books down but kept her music going, the elegant rhythms playing over and over in her ears. 

It was time to go, Aaron needed to be warned. He wasn’t as fast as the others…

……………………………………………

Bass looked down at the camp from their position on the ridge above it, ‘Now what do you think has got everyone so stirred up down there?’

Charlie came up next to him, pushing a reluctant Connor along in front of her. They were taking him back to Miles, after that she really didn’t care what he did. Bass had been trying to sort something out with him but she didn’t think it would work, Connor was too far gone…‘It looks like they’re getting ready to move out’ The scent of crushed grass and the damp burnt wood smell of smothered campfires overlaid with the stench of nervous sweat on unwashed bodies reached her nostrils like a wave and she snorted it out, disgusted. She was learning to filter things so her senses weren’t overwhelmed, but it was still hard... 

The camp was alive with activity. People were running everywhere with boxes, bags, loading wagons, saddling horses… some were already leaving. Then she spotted her Grandpa, and Miles, talking to a dark haired man, ’Bass, Miles is up - and he looks pretty good.’

He grinned. ‘He’s tough, always has been, always bounces back…’ then he had a closer look, the grin fading, his eyes hard, unbelieving. ’Hey, isn’t that Neville talking to Miles?’

Charlie felt the blood rush from her face, ‘Tom Neville?’ she stared for a moment, ‘yeah, and Miles hasn’t killed him yet…’ Then she turned to Bass, ‘what could he want?’

He nodded, ‘Apart from getting another shot at you, my guess is he wants some help getting revenge on the Patriots for Julia – and that he has some good intel to bargain with, or Miles wouldn’t have let him in the door.’

‘So what do you think, a raid?’

‘Looks like, with everyone mobilizing…’

Connor seemed to wake up out of the funk he’d been in since discovering he wasn’t invulnerable any more… ‘You can’t let him see you, Charlie,’

She slid a glance at him, ‘Since when do you care?’

He shrugged and looked away, ‘just saying…’ 

She turned to Bass. He was looking at her already, his eyes full of something she wasn’t quite sure of yet. She tipped her head, ‘what is it?’

‘You need to be careful, Charlie, please?’ He glanced at Connor, ‘we don’t know how long this thing’ll last. The nano could change its mind anytime, like it did with Connor…’

He was right. She nodded, stepping closer and reaching up to press a hard kiss on his lips. ‘We’d better make the most of it then, hadn’t we?’

He chuckled then looked up, startled, as a noise like a clattering, shrieking wind filled the air.

High above them the sky was dark, covered with what looked like the entire bird population for miles around flying in one direction – away…

Connor pointed off into the distance, ‘what’s that?’

Charlie looked, there was something billowing through the trees in the distance beyond the camp. ‘Its just smoke… isn’t it?’

………………………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi, and thanks so much for reading!! I’ll have the next one up soon I hope although RL is still being heavy with the hectic… I’d love to know what you think if you have a moment ☺ cheers, Magpie


	5. Part 5, Snake eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:   
> Hi there, it’s been a really long time between updates so if you are still hanging in there, thankyou so much for coming back! Thanks for your thoughts and comments on part 4 too, it is so good to read them and I really hope you enjoy this one. ☺ The titles of the story and chapters are from songs by Mumford and Sons.

Bass stared at the deep yellow, rolling clouds of vapour that crawled, billowing slow and heavy through the trees that bordered the high fence of the Chemical plant grounds and his blood went cold…‘that’s not smoke, Charlie, I think it’s fucking mustard gas, and look what’s walking around inside it…’

A few panicked deer burst out of the trees, heading towards them for a moment then veering away, bounding off behind the town wall… and as she watched them go, she realized the grassy open scrub that followed the tree line was rustling, alive with smaller animals doing the same thing… Even the insects were leaving, the air thick with flying things and the smell of fear…

Connor was straining to see over Bass’ shoulder, ‘what’s mustard gas? And what’s inside it?’

Charlie saw the soldiers walking through the murky yellow stuff, Patriots, at least a dozen – all of them wearing full face masks, heavy uniforms and wearing some kind of backpacks. They looked like giant bugs…‘I see them,’ she glanced at him ‘so mustard gas is bad?’

He nodded, face grim, ‘yeah, it’s like acid. At worst it kills,’ he shook his head, ‘at best it causes permanent damage inside and out. I’d take a wild guess this is what Neville had up his sleeve, and why everyone’s heading out so fast.’

Charlie sniffed the air and quickly blew it out again, ‘it smells like mouldy garlic. No wonder everything’s leaving.’ She turned back to Bass, thoughtful… ‘They’re vulnerable in those suits aren’t they, and they won’t be expecting anyone to fight back, not in there…’ 

‘Yes they are, and no they won’t.’ He was staring at her, considering their options… 

‘So how fast does the gas work?’ she took a step towards him, ‘could we last long enough to take those guys out if the nano was healing us?’

He shrugged, his eyes on hers, their blue so deep she almost fell into them. ‘Maybe, I don’t know.’ Then he walked over to the campfire, bending to grab his pack and the weapons he wasn’t already wearing. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ He glanced up at her, ‘but I’m going in alone, you take Connor and go find Miles, make sure your family and the others get out ok, they’ll be waiting for you.’ He came back and stood in front of her, serious. ‘And tell Miles to kill Tom Neville before he tries to get to you again. We don’t know for sure if we can count on the nano.’

Charlie was shaking her head, ‘No…’ All she could focus on was that he was planning to go take the Patriots on by himself and that was so not happening. ‘I’m coming with you, Connor can find his own way out and my family have Miles.’

He bent and kissed her, slowly, deeply, his lips warm and sweet, his taste, his scent running through her veins like the smoothest, most delicious whiskey… Then he pulled back a little, looking down at her… ‘Charlie, your family need you, and I need to know you’re ok. Will you do it? Please?’

She gazed back, caught in blue again… Then she sighed, ‘shit…’

Connor was staring at Bass, his eyes a mixture of anger, confusion and a kind of fear... ‘You’re crazy. You can’t fight all of them on your own.’

‘He won’t be on his own,’ a familiar, rasping drawl came from behind them....

Charlie swung round, relief and amazement flooding her face when she saw him because he looked so… different. ‘Miles… you look great. How’d you find us?’ She watched as he came closer, striding tall and dark and wonderful and looking a whole hell of a lot better than the last time she’d seen him, in fact he looked better than she’d ever seen him, even that time in Chicago. His skin and eyes were clear and bright, and he was moving easily, smoothly, strong, like someone twenty years younger… And there was no sign of injury of any kind, nothing, nada… She smiled, yay nano… 

He checked her over too, his dark eyes serious, sardonic as usual. They hadn’t changed… ‘Kid, the three of you were shouting so loud I could hear you from down there, and I could smell you too,’ he made a face, ‘which is totally weird by the way…’

Connor frowned at him, angry again… ‘Hey, that should be me, I had it first…’ he looked at Bass, then Charlie, although neither of them looked particularly sympathetic, ‘why did it pick Miles instead of me?’ 

Miles glanced at him, an eyebrow lifting, ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

Connor just shook his head and turned away, his lips twisted in disgust…

Charlie was too busy being thankful to pay attention to Connor. Miles was ok. In fact he was better than ok… and it felt like a heavy weight lifted off her shoulders because there was a chance they might just make it through all of this after all. 

Bass was studying Miles too, ‘so it did a reno on you as well, huh?’

‘Yeah, and now I know what it was like for you two.’ Miles stared at Bass for a moment, something unreadable on his face. Then he looked past them at the advancing gas clouds, ‘but we can talk about weird shit and other shit later, once we’ve sorted those guys out.’ He turned back to Charlie. ‘I guess you know Tom Neville’s down there?’

She nodded, ‘yeah.’ 

He smiled, grim. ‘The bastard knows a lot more than he’s saying, which is the only reason he’s still alive. And right now he’s down with Scanlon and a couple of your guys guarding him,’ He caught her eyes, his own hard as the rocks under their feet, ‘but if he so much as looks at you sideways, you kill him, ok?’

She huffed, ‘that’s what Bass said.’ Then a wave of something like sadness passed through her eyes along with the memory of a broken man crying in that safe house…‘I kind of feel sorry for him, Miles. He’s lost everything, Jason, his wife... everything.’

Miles sucked in a breath, looming towards her, angry, muscles tense and his fists clenched…‘Well I don’t feel sorry, Charlie. He knew what Jason would become if the Patriots activated him, and he shouldn’t blame you for defending yourself, except that he does. He’s mad and he’s dangerous, and I think the only reason he came to warn us at all was to get another chance at killing you… So you are going to shoot him if he comes anywhere near you, ok? And fuck whatever else he’s got in that conniving head of his…’ He shook his head, ‘I can’t lose you Charlie, and I can’t and won’t rely on some nano mumbo jumbo to save you, do you understand?’ 

She nodded, her tongue flicking out to moisten dry lips, ‘yeah…’ 

He relaxed a little. ‘Good’ then he checked his swords and ammo, glancing over at Bass, an eyebrow lifting.

‘Ready when you are, Miles,’ Bass looked back at them, a little smile curving his lips, calmly loading his pistols, filling his pockets with extra ammo, checking knives, swords, a bandana ready to cover his mouth… 

Miles turned back to Charlie. ‘Your mom and Aaron are still down there, and your grandpa too.’ he glanced at Bass again, looking for and finding confirmation in the blue eyes. ‘We need you to go take care of them. Find somewhere to hide that the gas can’t get into and wait for us, ok?’ He tipped his head towards Connor, ‘he can help too…’

Connor shrugged, his lips tight, ‘why should I?’ 

Charlie just looked at him.

He huffed, then shrugged again, ‘Ok… I’ll go, but I didn’t sign up for any of this crap…’

Bass caught his eyes, ‘Connor, please, we’ll talk about this later, ok?’

Connor shrugged again. ‘Maybe there won’t be a later. What if the nano can’t fix you?’

Miles threw him a sharp look then slid his eyes to Charlie. ‘We’ll find you, Charlie, ok?’ He came closer and pulled her into a hug, his body hard, all muscle and strength and so much taller than her that her cheek only just reached his heart as he held her close, its strong beat reassuring, steady, inevitable, as though nothing could possibly stop it… 

She took a deep breath of him, spicy male, warm, like home… and felt him press a kiss against her hair. 

Then he let her go, stepping back… 

Bass came up to her then, loaded for bear with so much unsaid in his eyes that she couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away, could feel him sinking into her bones, into her soul. 

She lifted a hand and brushed a stray curl back over his ear, her lips curving despite it all because, damn, his hair had a life of it’s own. It had all happened so quickly between them, was so intense, so new... and now this could be the last time she saw him, the last time she saw Miles. Fuck. She so wanted to go with them, but her mom, grandpa, and Aaron were on their own, and she needed to make sure they were ok. Bass and Miles were right about that. She closed her fist around a handful of curls and pulled, not so gently, ‘Come find me soon, ok?’

He smiled at her. 

It was a gentle smile that tore it’s way through her like a bolt of lightening. Shit. Every time something happened that seemed like it was good this fucking world threatened to take it from her. She let go of his hair and ran her hand down over his chest, giving him a little push, angry now… ‘Don’t do that, Bass, you can’t be soft. You and Miles go kill those bastards, then both of you come back to me. Ok?’ She felt her eyes burning, and her hands clench… 

The smile widened into a grin, ‘there’s the Charlie we all know and love…’ Then he lifted a finger to trace the side of her cheek. ‘Look after yourself, kid.’

Then he was gone, they were both gone…

……………………………………

She stood there for a moment then turned to Connor who was standing there looking resentful, she sighed, ‘It’s your own fault, Connor, you know that don’t you?’

He scowled, ‘what is?’

‘The nano left you after you tried to kill Bass… it didn’t like you doing that, obviously.’ She grabbed her crap and started down towards the camp. ‘Now come on, we’ve got a job to do.’

He stared after her, still scowling, then he picked up his sword and followed.  
………………………………

Priscilla tucked her magazine more firmly under her arm, Aaron wasn’t far away – and Charlie was on her way too, which was good, the others were running out of time to leave or hide from the mustard gas and the soldiers. She smiled. She was very, very pleased with Sebastian and Miles and she was glad she’d given Miles another chance. They were being as brave as the characters in her book, going to fight their enemies to save the helpless, the weak, even though they knew that her gifts might not last, might not save them, that there was a chance they could die when they entered the clouds of poisonous gas. 

Her experiment was becoming even more interesting, even more exciting…

She couldn’t understand why humans would invent something like mustard gas though. It was a horrible weapon, efficient maybe, but unpredictable and indiscriminate, killing everything in its path. The animals she’d observed in the woods that’d been caught in it had died painful, meaningless deaths. Even the plant life suffered.

Then she saw Aaron, her poor, confused Aaron. Looking around for the others, undecided, anxious, frightened, as usual. If only he’d have faith in her and forget his Priscilla… 

She strolled over to join him. She wanted to make sure he was safe before she left, there was something she wanted to do on her own. 

……………………………….

There were still a few people rushing around the camp, but they were heading out fast. Hauling bags, weapons, saddling horses, loading wagons, grabbing last minute things then heading for the gates, the urgency in the air thick enough to breathe.

As she ran with Connor trailing behind her, barely able to keep up, Charlie caught sight of Aaron talking to Priscilla near one of the buildings, the small woman a strange island of still and calm compared to everyone else. Charlie frowned. There was something different about Priscilla’s smell and the way she moved, something not quite right, not quite human, it was a puzzle she didn’t have time to think about though, not yet anyway… 

Aaron suddenly turned and started trotting for a tumble of rusted machinery and truck bodies on higher ground behind the Chemical plant, Priscilla following along behind him. 

Then Charlie spotted her mom, running back towards the infirmary, shit…

Charlie ran to Rachel first, not even breathing hard, flashing a quick glance behind to check on Connor, but only because Bass had kind of asked her to look after him.

He had stopped a little way back, bent over, hands on his knees, out of breath... 

She skidded to a stop in front of her mom, ‘Mom, where’s Grandpa? We need to get out of here right now.’

Rachel looked at her, head tipped to one side, her gaze almost clinical, as though Charlie was some kind of experiment. Then she nodded… ‘He’s getting his things together. Have you seen Miles?’ 

Charlie nodded, ‘There are a bunch of patriots setting off the gas and heading this way, Miles and Bass are going in after them, but the gas is still coming and it’ll be here soon…’ 

Rachel blinked, the colour draining from her face, ‘Miles and Bass are doing what?’

…………………………………

They’d found an old, tumbledown wall and were crouched behind it, checking things out. The slow, sullen, rolling ochre yellow, sickly smelling clouds were nearer now, crawling through shrubs and the lower branches of trees, closer to the wire fence and the gate... 

Miles tied a bandana tight around his mouth and nose. He didn’t know what the hell good it’d do but at least it made him feel a bit better about running into that stuff, and it blocked some of the stench. There was nothing they could do about their eyes though, except hope the nano could keep them going long enough to do the job… ‘So what do you think?’

Bass shuffled a bit closer, his shoulder scraping the wall, his boots scuffing in the dirt, a sword in one hand and a gun in the other. He’d done the bandana thing too, and his eyes gleamed over the thin fabric as he grinned underneath it… Shit, the two of them looked like a couple of bandido’s. ‘I was thinking Minneapolis.’

Miles grinned back at him, the old Miles, with the devil dancing in his dark eyes at the thought of battle and mayhem… ‘We never did Minneapolis.’

‘Never actually ran into mustard gas before either.’

Miles chuckled, getting ready to go, taking a last look over the wall. ‘I count a couple of dozen in there, just enough fun for both of us.’ He glanced back at Bass for a long moment. ‘Semper fi, Bass…’

Bass nodded, ready too… the strands of their long history together stretching between them, unbreakable. ‘Do or die, brother.’

………………………….

Tom Neville knew what was coming through the trees and it was nothing good. He’d planned to be far away from here by now, with the Matheson girl dead and gone… He twisted his wrists against the ropes but it didn’t help, they stayed tight.

‘Keep walking or I’ll shoot you now, I don’t care what else you think you know.’ Scanlon pushed the business end of the gun barrel into the small of Neville’s back, ‘and believe me I’d be happy to shoot you. You’re a real pain in the ass.

They were on their own. Scanlon had sent the other men off to help with the evacuation but he had orders to keep Neville canned until Monroe got back, and that was what he was going to do. So Scanlon was taking his prisoner up high, he’d spotted the carcase of an old tanker that might give them a place to hide that would protect them from the gas. Trouble was, his prisoner was dragging his heels, slowing them down, and he knew it was deliberate, although he didn’t know why…

Tom Neville chuckled. ‘So, what’s it like having Miles Matheson and Sebastian Monroe back together again, just like old times? The stupid mistakes, glaring errors of judgement, giving orders they aren’t prepared to follow themselves where everybody dies but them…’ he glanced back over his shoulder. ‘They don’t care about a damn thing except each other, everyone knows that.’ He smiled, a lopsided sneer that reeked of innuendo. ‘You’ve seen them together haven’t you, Scanlon? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?’

Scanlon pushed the gun a little further into the soft flesh of the man’s side, ‘Shut the fuck up…’

The other man shrugged and walked on, ‘I knew them both, from back before there was a Monroe Republic, I believed in them then. At least I did until I saw how everyone around them died because of the mistakes they made, how everything they touched went wrong…’ He turned again, his eyes very serious, the smile completely gone, ‘I left them, Scanlon. I had to, I couldn’t take any more of the lies, the incompetence…’

Scanlon pushed him on, although not as hard as before. ‘We don’t have much of a choice, do we? It’s them or give up and join the fucking Patriots, there’s no one else left who knows fighting like them…’

Tom Neville smiled again, over his shoulder, and this time it was gentle, confident, ‘There’s me…’

…………………………………

Charlie swallowed her impatience, her Grandpa was only trying to save what he could of his hard won supplies, but if he didn’t fucking hurry up she was going to scream... She took a deep breath but it didn’t do anything except give her a lung full of camp stink with a tang of the approaching gas, ‘Grandpa, if you don’t come right now, I swear I’m going to pick you up and carry you out of here.’

Gene handed her another box, a small one this time and slung a bag over his shoulder, ignoring her completely. Then he had a last look around, ‘I think that’s it,’ he turned to her mom, ‘have you got everything, Rachel?’

She nodded, ‘I think so, Dad.’ She slid a final package into her pack, hoisted it onto her back and headed out, a cool smile curling her lips, ‘ok, let’s go then.’

Charlie rolled her eyes, ‘finally…’ 

Connor blew out a breath, adjusting his sword around the bags he was holding, ‘you mean we can actually leave now?’ He headed for the door, ‘about fucking time.’

Rachel glared at him as she followed him out. ‘Some of these supplies are priceless, irreplaceable and the gas could have contaminated them.’ 

He shrugged and shook his head, ’whatever…’

Charlie brushed past them, ‘come on, there’s a place I scoped out before, up on the hill and I saw Aaron and Priscilla heading up there too.’ She took a last look around. The camp was empty, everyone gone, they were the last to leave...

She hurried them out then stayed behind her grandpa as he ran as fast as he could over the rubble of decaying concrete towards the path up to where the rusted cylinder of the big truck’s container lay like a dead whale surrounded by the abandoned carcases of other trucks, cars and assorted metal things. Her mom was doing fine and Connor was leading the way but her grandpa was the slowest, panting and struggling almost as soon as they started, although he was determined too. She got closer and took the biggest bag from off his shoulder… 

He glanced at her, too tired and sore to be embarrassed and way too wise to be offended…

She smiled at him as she carried the extra load easily up the steep path, ‘free Nano boost, Grandpa, remember?’

He frowned, his eyes sad, ‘I wish I didn’t, Charlie, and nothing comes for free, remember that.’

Connor glanced back at her, ‘the old man’s right. Don’t I know it…’

She shrugged it off along with the worry about Bass and Miles. There wasn’t time for worry now, ‘let’s just keep moving, ok?’ She spotted Aaron up ahead. It looked like he’d found the door into the body of the truck. He was struggling to open it though…

‘Charlie?’ 

Her mom was looking behind them and pointing, fear spreading over her face. 

Charlie turned to look.

There were curling, cresting waves of yellow flowing along the ground just behind them, way, way too close… moving towards them with little tendrils reaching up into the air and the abandoned camp below them now a widening pool of the horrible yellow, the truncated tops of the chemical plant rising out of it like desperate fingers…

‘Shit…’ She pulled her mom up the last few steps, dragging her grandpa along too…

Connor was already with Aaron, pulling at the handle of the sliding doors into the cylinder, the strain showing on his face as he tried to budge them…

Charlie got there and shouldered them out of the way, her hands gripping the cold, corroded metal. She pulled… 

There was a loud squeal of metal against metal and the curved doors screeched wide, the blackness inside the body of the truck a hot, dusty cave that smelled really, really bad. It’d do though. It was obviously airtight, safe. 

She threw the bags in then stepped back to let the others through. 

Aaron was hesitating, looking around. He swung round to her, his eyes wide behind the glasses. ‘Did you see where Priscilla went, Charlie?’

She shook her head, ‘Sorry, Aaron,’ she took his hand, pulling him towards the doors, ‘you need to get in now though, ok?’ 

He looked around, frantic, not knowing what to do, ‘She’s still out here, Charlie, and I can’t leave her alone again,’ he pulled against her, ‘not again.’

Connor, her grandpa and her mom were inside now, but her mom leaned back out, anxious… ‘Get inside you two. Hurry.’

Charlie looked around, ‘I can’t see her, Aaron,’ she took his hand, trying to be as reassuring as she could in the circumstances. ‘But she’ll find somewhere safe, she’ll be ok, alright?’ And she did believe that, somehow she knew that Priscilla would be ok.

He nodded, ‘Ok, ok…’

There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite work out. It was almost as though he was trying to hide something from her? Then, to her relief because she’d decided that she was actually going to throw him in if he didn’t move, he climbed inside and slumped to the floor, his head in his hands...

And then it was her turn. 

She looked inside and found Connor looking back at her. His dark eyes were steady, knowing, not angry any more… 

He nodded, ‘It’s ok. I’ll look after them, you go.’

She smiled, just a little because she was still pissed at him then nodded back. Because she actually trusted him with this, even if it was only because he knew she’d find him and kill him if he didn’t look after them.

Her mom looked out around Connor’s shoulder, ‘Charlie? Come inside, right now…’

Charlie took a deep breath, ignoring her mom’s demanding stare, her grandpa’s confusion… ‘Stay in here until I get back, all of you.’ She shrugged because she really didn’t know that she would be back, ‘or stay until you think it’s safe anyway, I’ll be back.’

Connor gave her a salute full of irony and a kind of admiration and for a moment, just a moment because things were very different now, she remembered a night in the fields outside New Vegas when she was bored and he was cute... Then it was gone, and the last thing she saw before she slid closed the heavy steel doors were her mom and her grandpa staring at her, identical looks of appalled disbelief on their faces... 

Then, she was alone and everything was quiet and strangely calm, although she could hear fighting, movement, voices, off in the distance and curiously muffled by the gas… 

She looked around, listening, testing the air, filtering out the stench of the approaching gas and a zillion other things to find the traces she wanted to be there, that had to be there. 

Then she smiled. 

Bass and Miles were still alive, and she knew where to find them. 

She started running.

……………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed this one ☺ More soon, cheers, Magpie.


	6. Only love...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a warning from Tom Neville the rebel camp was evacuated just before the gas reached it. Miles and Bass are getting ready to enter the mustard gas cloud to deal with the Patriots.and Charlie is heading in to join them, leaving her mom, grandpa and Aaron with Connor.
> 
> Miles and Bass are hoping that Priscilla/Nano will help them survive the gas if the help she's already given them isn't enough.. but even if she doesn't, they'll go anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:  
> Hi there, and thank you so, so much for reading, especially given the long gap between updates (sometimes it’s hard to find time to write…), anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Kittycat40, who left me a lovely comment and asked for more. I hope you enjoy this one :) The titles of the story and chapters are from songs by Mumford and Sons.

Bass took a deep breath, although if the Nano wasn’t coming to the party one breath wasn’t going to do him much good. Miles was on the left as usual, swords drawn, covering what used to be his blind spot as they moved together into the blanket of dense, deep yellow fog. They both knew what mustard gas could do and this was one hell of a fucking gamble, but the patriot bastards who were setting off the gas wouldn’t be expecting an attack from the inside. This way they could wipe out a couple of squads, with minimal casualties – that was the plan anyway.

It was quiet inside and almost at once, Bass felt the exposed skin of his face and hands start to prickle and sting, his eyes too. He looked down, the backs of his hands were flushed red, small blisters appearing as he watched and even with the nano healing him as he went and it was because he could feel that happening, the continued exposure to the stuff was obviously being a problem. He held his breath as long as he could but even under the bandana the sting and burn in his throat and lungs made him choke when he took a breath in. He glanced over at Miles, saw the same red blisters and lines of pain drawn on his brothers face.

Had they made a mistake? Maybe the nano couldn’t - or wouldn’t - protect them from this.

Miles looked back at him, eyes red, sore, the skin around them blistered and weeping. Then he coughed, a harsh, liquid sound. ‘Could actually be Butch and Sundance this time, Bass, unless your little friends are just running late.’ 

Bass nodded, moving forward, a grim smile crinkling his eyes, the blisters around them cracking and bursting, painfully. ‘I thought we’d be ok, but fuck it…might as well keep going. Never thought I’d die in bed anyway.’ 

Miles nodded and followed, wincing, but his own eyes kind of amused above the bandana, ‘at least we grew up to be heroes.’ 

………………………………

Priscilla was walking towards the power station, watching everything, the thick, greasy billows of the yellow fog whispering around her ankles and a small part of her busy repairing skin cells as she walked. She was pleased, Sebastian and Miles were brave and noble like the heroes in her magazines, going into the gas despite pain and discomfort and the almost certain prospect of death. Her head tipped to the side, eyes looking off into the distance, good, Charlie was almost there too. Priscilla smiled and made a few necessary adjustments, a swirling cloud of fireflies glinting green and slowly winking out above her head.

………………………………

Charlie was almost there. The sweet, spicy smell of the gas was tickling her nose and beneath that was the stink of oil, gunpowder, the rubber of the patriot’s masks and sweat, lots and lots of sweat. Fear too. The soldiers obviously knew what would happen to them if they were exposed. 

There were a dozen soldiers about a hundred yards ahead of her and the same number about a quarter mile off to her right, the two groups appeared to be circling around the power station, spreading the gas over as much ground as they could in the shortest time. They didn’t seem to realise that the rebels they were after were gone. But that was their problem.

She crouched behind the cover of a couple of straggly bushes and pulled in a breath, testing the air, her nose wrinkling at the weird mix of smells. 

She could sense Bass and Miles coming up behind the first group of soldiers, but even with the Nano’s help, she didn’t think she could take all of second group on her own, better to circle around behind and team up with her two guys, help them then go tackle the other lot together. She smiled a little at that thought, Miles seemed to be taking the fact that she’d hooked up with Monroe in his stride. But then he wasn’t exactly in any position to preach. The thing happening between him and her mom wasn’t something that just happened yesterday, and someday he was going to tell her about that. She brushed away thoughts of her dad, time for that later.

She paused at the edge of the gas cloud. The thick, yellowish mass rose high above her head like a sandstorm, horrible, almost evil, and the kind of savoury/sweet smell of it, like garlic and some sort of flowers, somehow made it even worse. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Miles and Bass were in there, alive and well, she could feel it, so she’d be ok too, right? Might as well do it. 

She loaded her bow, unclipped her knife, and ignoring the instinctive fear that made her want to run like hell in the other direction took a deep breath and headed straight into the gas cloud. 

It opened up, let her in and just like that she was in another world.

………………………………..

Bass had taken cover behind a concrete column, each breath tasting like bitter sand, his lungs screaming a protest and trying to cough it all out again. Then, between one breath and the next there was a kind of shiver in the air and he felt a wave of sweet, healing relief flow over his skin, a cool breeze soothing throat and eyes, and when he looked at his hands the rash of blisters were gone. He took a deep breath in, and turned to Miles who was crouched behind a stack of timber palettes a few feet away, ‘you ok, Miles?’ 

Miles pulled his bandana down, relief in those dark eyes, ‘Yeah, just glad the little green guys decided to come to the party.’ He froze in place, seeing a line of dark, bulky figures coming closer through the fog, his hand going up in warning, ‘we’ve got company coming.’

Bass nodded, ‘I see ‘em’. In the mustard coloured light the patriots looked alien, like huge insects with their backpacks, nozzles and gasmasks. He counted them, circling his shoulders and wrists to loosen them up, swords swinging, ‘I make it six each in this squad, Miles.’ His lips twisted into a cold smile, ‘you want front or back?’

Miles drew his own swords and rolled his shoulders. He felt good, even better than before, it was as though the last fifteen years had never happened, to his body anyway. His mind still knew exactly how old and jaded he really was. He chuckled, damn it, he was actually enjoying this. ‘I’ll take ‘em in the ass, you fuck ‘em from the front and five buck says I do more than you.’ The crinkle eyed white toothed grin that said challenge accepted Bass sent his way took him back years too. There hadn’t been room for any of that kind of crap between them for a long, long time. They were still a long way from how it used to be but…

A shaft of sunlight somehow got through the gas and glinted off his swords. There was a muffled shout from just up ahead, a burst of movement and suddenly the enemy was all around them. 

Bass and Miles got to work, back to back, side by side and it was almost like old times. Except for the whole super-strength, magical healing thing of course, but hey, he wasn’t complaining.

……………………………….

Charlie was really close, she could smell the sweat, the blood, hear the clash of swords, the gasps and yells of pain, was almost close enough to see them except for the stupid fog. She dropped to a crouch, taking cover behind a broken wall. Working out her next move because she could hear the other troop of patriots coming, fast.

Out of the fog two figures came running towards her, choking and gasping, masks gone, breathing tubes hanging, torn and useless, the gas tanks on their backs spewing more orange gas into the air from flailing nozzles. They were both pulling and tearing at their clothes as they ran, the skin of their hands and faces red and blotched, eyes desperate, panicked.

She lifted her bow, aimed over the wall and took down the first guy.

The second one saw her, somehow, and pulled a gun. He shot once, twice, both shots going way wide, either by luck or the fact that he couldn’t see, which was too bad for him.

Because by then she’d reloaded and that was that.

Just ahead, Miles and Bass burst out of the fog, along with five patriots, bodies and swords swirling like whirlwinds with fountains of blood and rubber fragments flying through the roiling gas as the patriots fought desperately, trying to fight or just get away, their masks torn off or just hanging, faces and hands red with blood and the rash from the mustard gas.

Miles and Bass were both covered in blood too, and for a moment her heart wanted to stop. But she didn’t dare do anything to help, they were all moving so fast she couldn’t find a shot and besides it looked like they were handling things without her. There was something she could do though, her bow wasn’t her only weapon, not by a long shot.

She slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her knives, moving in from behind on one of the patriots as he got near to her, his arms flailing, a scream tearing itself from his throat as her long knife slid in through the armour and between his ribs as easy as if she was gutting a rabbit. She finished him off and pulled her knife out, wiping it on the guys uniform as she did.

Bass saw her and stopped dead, his eyes going wide with shock, ‘Charlie?’

Then a patriot sword flashed, slicing his cheek open and going way, way too close to his eye.

Charlie sucked in a breath, shit… But the wound closed up, disappearing as she watched as though it had never happened…

Miles yelled something, swung around and took out the guy who hit Bass with a sideways slash that almost took his head off then flipped around and took out another, his eyes finding hers with a dark, furious intensity that was almost scary.

Almost. She flipped him a look and flung her knife deep into the chest of the last but one, pulling it out and watching the man fall into a crumpled heap, making sure he was dead while Bass finished off the last guy.

‘Charlie, what the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be looking after your mom.’ Miles was right in front of her, tall, imposing and very, very angry.

Bass was right behind him, almost as tall, equally imposing and even more furious. He looked scared too, for her? His eyes were a bright, burning blue through the thick yellow fog. ‘We said we’d handle it, Charlie,’ he came closer, shouldering Miles out the way, ‘you didn’t know if the nano would work for you in here. The gas could’ve killed you, what were you thinking?’

She glared at them both, how dare they be all macho protective. She was a fighter too, hadn’t she proved it, time and time again? She stood up very straight. ‘But it didn’t kill me. And I came to warn you. There’s more of them coming this way,’ In fact she could hear, smell them, they were close, too close...

Miles glared back, swinging away to face the enemy. ‘We know, Charlie, and we’ll talk about this later.’

Bass wiped the blood off his face with a forearm, his face set, pale even in the weird light, ‘These aren’t cadets, Charlie, they’re seasoned soldiers, and you haven’t got the experience we have.’ He went to follow Miles, turning to look back at her over his shoulder, ‘so let us deal with it, ok?’

She stared at him. How dared he say that to her, especially when she’d been so worried about him, about them. She’d come to help them, damn it. ‘Fuck you, Bass.’

But he was gone.

He and Miles were both gone into the fog and the sound of screams and slaughter reached her ears, coming from where they’d headed.

For a small, angry moment she was tempted to leave them to it. And then she actually felt guilty about leaving her mom and the others behind without protection. Shit. 

She shook herself and headed in to join the fight. The others would be ok. Connor was looking after them, and if it came to that, her mom was no pushover in a fight either. They’d be perfectly fine. Miles worried too much, and as for Bass? Just because they’d fucked a few times, well, ok, they’d fucked a lot and her pussy and clit were still jumping for joy after the last time. But that didn’t mean he had any right to tell her what to do. 

She scowled as the fog cleared a little and she saw them waiting for her up ahead, their swords red and dripping and identical frowns on their faces as they watched her coming towards them. The smell of blood and other body fluids was a heavy, metallic stink that invaded her senses and the bodies of patriot soldiers were lying all around them in dark, tumbled piles scattered over the ground, some of them still twitching. 

So, she wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of sticking her knife into something. That sucked.

………………………….

Rachel’s mouth worked, she was getting more and more worried about Gene. Being in the confines of the truck with its stale, polluted air after that run up the hill wasn’t doing her dad any good at all. 

In the gloom, Gene looked pale and his breathing was shallow and laboured although he was trying to hide it. 

Rachel made him have a drink, worried about dehydration.

Aaron was worried too, about Priscilla, and what the nano was doing to her, with her. He was sitting staring into nothing so hard his brain was hurting, hoping that somehow, something would happen and she’d be ok, that something in this awful world would finally go right. Because he didn’t know if he could go through losing her again. 

Connor crouched with his back propped against the filthy wall, trying not to breath too hard and staring at the hatch as the very, very short list of reasons why he shouldn’t just fucking go ahead and leave them all to their fucking stupid war and head back to Mexico seared through his head like Nunez’ cracking a whip. The only reason that mattered though, the only one that meant anything, was that he’d promised Charlie he’d stay and look after the others. Fuck. 

There was a knock on the hatch.

Rachel looked up, her eyes hopeful, ‘Charlie?’ 

Gene and Aaron perked up too, Aaron pulling himself to his feet and grabbing his pack.

Connor was already there and sliding the doors of the hatch up, ‘about fucking time, Charlie…’ His voice trailed off, ‘Scanlon? Who’s with you?’ His body was blocking the view outside, but they all realised that something was very wrong when he raised his hands and stepped back.

A figure appeared in the opening, a dark shape silhouetted against the light outside, the gun in his hand a dark, deadly shape. ‘Well, hello there, now isn’t this just too convenient…’ The voice was rich, full, charming and a complete lie.

And Aaron realized that the world had played yet another cruel fucking joke...

Tom Neville smiled.  
………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi, and thanks so much Kittycat40!! It was a lot of fun getting back into this story. I think the next chapter will be the last… hopefully up soon!! I have to do a couple of other updates first though, Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one, cheers, Magpie.


	7. Monster...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:  
> Hi there, and thank you so much for reading and for being lovely and following the story so far. I hope you like this bit, I think there’ll be one more chapter, but it kind of depends on what happens there lol!. The titles of the story and chapters are all from songs by Mumford and Sons on 'Wilder Mind'.

Priscilla had found two patriots still alive on the edges of the gas cloud and was considering what to do with them. Healed they’d be good subjects for her experiments. She was particularly interested in the possibilities of manipulating the human limbic system and had already found a location where she could work undisturbed. Her lips curved in an almost smile, humans had turned out to be very good subjects – and much more interesting than the insects and animals she had used earlier.

One of the men coughed, choked then lay still, blood trickling down from the corner of his blotched and cracked lips and onto the ground.

She watched the man’s death with interest and was thinking about reversing the process to save her finding another subject when something else caught her attention. Her head tilted and her eyes glowed when she realized what was happening inside the truck up on the hill. The possibilities were irresistible. The stories in her magazines all featured a powerful, evil enemy who threatened loved ones and the world. An enemy the heroes had to unite against in a life or death struggle that tested them all to the limit. It was perfect. He was perfect.

Any thoughts about the human limbic system vanished as she started back up the hill towards the truck. 

.........................

Charlie was still pissed. She’d just wanted to help them damn it. She glared up at Miles who was stalking at her side, his longer stride eating up the distance. She almost had to run to keep up even with the nano go-go juice, because of course he’d got his own dose of that, hadn’t he. 

He glared back at her and walked faster. 

She fumed.

They’d just finished collecting all the gas canisters from the patriot soldiers, putting them into one of the basement storerooms under the factory because Charlie figured her mom would know how to neutralize it and then at least the stuff couldn’t be used on anyone else. They’d also brushed and washed off as much residual gunk from their skin and clothes as they could. Now they were nearly at the bottom of the long slope up to the truck where she’d left the others and the last of the gas behind them was dissipating, little ochre tendrils of it being taken by the wind and floating away. 

All three of them had weapons out at the ready though, just in case the patriots had any other surprises.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘This is so stupid, Miles, if you’re pissed about us not using the mustard gas on Truman and the others then I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind. We’re not doing it.’

Bass was on the other side of her, ‘yeah, I thought we’d sorted that out already. Miles, stop being a dick.’ He swung his swords up and around in a series of complicated, fluid movements that looked effortless but were probably totally impossible for anyone else, except maybe Miles. ‘We won, didn’t we? And now we’re going to take care of the rest of the patriot bastards, gas or no gas’.

Miles glared over at him this time, ‘you can stop fucking skipping, Bass. It’s not that.’

Bass shrugged, although the corners of his mouth were twitching. He sent his swords twirling again…

Charlie huffed, although her eyes were following Bass because he truly was amazing with those, ‘So what is it then?’

Miles gritted his teeth. ‘The problem is that you never listen to anyone but yourself, Charlie.’ He slowed down a little, so she could keep pace with him, his lips tight. ‘I asked you to look after your mom and the others and instead of that, you come racing off after us like some idiot.’ He grabbed her arm, stopping them both, his eyes black, hard, angry. ‘Damn it, Charlie, even with your mom’s weird science crap, there were no guarantees we’d survive that stuff and what d’you think’d happen to the others if all three of us were killed, huh?’ He came in close, big and dark, fear making the lines on his face harsh. It was suddenly easy to remember that people had called him the butcher of Baltimore.

Charlie stood her ground, staring up at him, teeth worrying her bottom lip. Shit. He was right, but it’d felt like the right thing to do at the time. Her mom was one of the scariest and most capable people she knew all on her own, and besides, Aaron and Connor had been there with her, Gene too. She heaved out a breath then glanced up the hill at the truck. Everything up there looked quiet and still. Then she looked some more. 

It was too quiet. Shit again. She frowned, the gas was gone, there was no more sounds of fighting. Connor or her mom, or both would have come out by now to have a look around, if they were ok that is. She turned and looked up the tall figure of her uncle, feeling stupid. ‘Miles, I hate to say it, but you’re right and I’m sorry.’ 

Miles blinked and stepped back, surprise breaking through the anger. ‘What? Since when do you admit I’m right about anything?’

Bass chuckled, ‘not in the history of ever?’ But his laugh faded when he saw the look on Charlie’s face.

Her eyes met his, worry swirling in the blues, ‘Since right now,’ she shifted her bow into a more comfortable place on her shoulder, ‘it’s way too quiet up there, something’s wrong. They should have come out by now.’ She started running, the last words floating back to them as she raced up the hill.

‘Shit’ Miles started up after her ‘she’s right.’

Bass rolled his eyes, slapped his swords into their sheaths and followed. 

………………………………….

Tom Neville was feeling almost ok. Like he had some of his old strength and energy back. He was in control, he had hostages and this time, he was the one holding all the cards. Lips twisted into something almost like his old smile he admired his prizes, all tied up like pigs at a fair ready for slaughter. All he had to do now was wait for the little Matheson bitch to come back and he’d have her too. 

And if Miles and Monroe had somehow survived the gas and the patriot soldiers? Well, he’d offer them a deal. The love of Miles’ life and Monroe’s only son in exchange for one lying, murdering little pain in the ass. Then finally he’d have what he wanted, what he deserved. 

Revenge, for Jason, and for Julia. 

His eyes narrowed and the smile widened as he considered another option. 

He could make Monroe part of the deal. From what he’d seen and heard of him, the man would willingly sacrifice himself to save his son. And both Texas and Davis wanted the ex-President of the so-called Monroe republic. He could name his price. Davis might even let him have his wife’s body if he gave them Monroe. He closed his eyes for a moment as grief threatened to rob him of anything resembling control. 

He and Julia could be together again, even if it was only to share a grave.

He took a deep, steadying breath. First things first. He needed to have the girl in his hands, in his sights, and before he finished with her, Charlotte Matheson would be begging to die.

His mind went back to the last time he’d said that very same thing, about the patriots that time. To Jason, his son. His only son. Jason, who was strong and smart and who’d died alone at the hands of that little bitch. His lips twisted. She’d led his son away from his family with her candy ass, had made him weak and stupid. If it wasn’t for her, Jason would still be alive. 

But she was going to pay, and pay hard.

He pulled himself into line and checked the window. Scanlon should be back soon, and then... 

………………………………

Rachel sat as still as she could to hide the fact that her fingers were busy working on the knots holding her to the chair. She was trying very hard not to draw the attention of the man staring out the window because she knew about crazy and she was looking at it. 

They were in one of the office buildings that hugged the fence on the outside perimeter of the power plant, out of the path of the gas. Neville and Scanlon had marched them there at gunpoint after making them leave the truck. Connor had tried to fight back, but Neville had laid him out with a vicious blow to the temple from his rifle butt. She and Aaron had half dragged, half carried the unconscious Connor, her dad doing what he could to help along the way. Neville had walked alongside, sneering as he watched. He hadn’t hurt Connor any more after that, or anyone else thankfully, although he wouldn’t let Gene do anything about the wound. She figured he had plans to use them to get something out of Miles and Monroe. Probably Charlie.

It was gloomy in their prison, the sun struggling to get in through filthy windows and tattered drapes grey with dust and spiderwebs, but it was light enough that she could see the weird smile on Neville’s face, although she almost wished she couldn’t. She’d looked into those dark eyes and knew that he’d never been more dangerous than right now. He’d lost everything. His wife, his son, and obviously blamed Charlie. He’d already tried to kill her once. This could be one of the man’s insanely convoluted plans to finish her off once and for all.

Her eyes went a cold, icy blue. That just wasn’t going to happen. She should have killed Neville back when he was the one tied up. Charlie had stopped her then because they needed the intel he had. But there was nothing to stop her killing him now.

She glanced over at the others.

Aaron was sitting on the filthy floor, slumped against a wall, hands and ankles tied in front of him, watching Neville as though the man was some sort of poisonous snake, coiled and waiting to strike. 

Rachel totally sympathised, but snake or no snake, they needed to get free and do something about Neville before the others got back. She refused to think of the possibility that they wouldn’t be coming back, although the fear of that was like a worm, eating away at her defences. Miles wouldn’t leave her again. He’d promised.

Connor was still unconscious, although Neville had tied him up anyway. He was lying on the ground behind Aaron, blood still seeping down from the wound on his scalp where Neville had hit him with the rifle. He was pale and his dark hair was matted above his right temple. She checked his breathing as well as she could, counting breaths. He should have started to come around by now. Still, if he was anything like his father he’d survive. Bass Monroe always survived.

She felt one of the knots around her wrists give way, stopping the surge of hope it gave her from reaching her face with the discipline honed over years of hiding the truth and other things, from Ben, Bass, Randall Flynn, her dad, Charlie… and Miles too, especially Miles. She’d hidden the truth from everyone, for years. She was very good at it. 

Her face calm, composed, she kept working on the knots and turned to look at her dad.

Gene Porter was tied up to another old plastic chair, shoulders slumped, his haunted, hollow with worry eyes moving from her to Connor to Neville and over to Aaron, then back to her. He looked grey and tired. Old. 

Rachel felt a pang of fear for him, he’d aged so much in a few months, especially since they discovered that he’d been working with the patriots. Guilt had put more lines on his face, more weight on his shoulders. ‘Dad?’ 

Gene looked up, his mouth working, the lines on his face pulled tight with tension, ‘what is it?’ his voice was a harsh whisper. 

She found herself trying to reassure him, although he was one of the toughest people she’d ever known. ‘Dad. It’ll be ok, Miles and Charlie will be back soon, I know it.’

He made a face, ‘How the hell do you figure that, Rachel?’ He glanced at Neville and winced, as though he saw something awful, ‘Mr Sunshine over there is hanging onto sanity by his fingernails and the only people who might be able to stop him ran voluntarily into a cloud of mustard gas.’ He tipped his head towards Connor, ‘and by the way, that young man’s been out way too long, if I don’t treat him soon he might never wake up.’

Aaron looked up, nervous. ‘Shh…’

Neville moved, his head turning towards them, eyes black holes in the shadows. ‘Quiet, all of you.’

The door opened a crack and Scanlon poked his head in, face tense. ‘Hey Tom, they’re comin’ this way, all three of them. The girl’s leading ‘em here, just like you said.’

Tom Neville stood up, satisfaction and anticipation all over his face. ‘Thank you, son, that’s the news I was hoping to hear.’ Then he blinked, went rigid and fell back against the wall, arms flailing and fingers clawing at the plaster to keep him upright. Shudders rippled through him, his whole body shaking, slumped against the wall, his eyes full of an almost carnal pleasure, lips loose and open, tongue wet, and inarticulate sounds coming from his throat. 

Rachel wondered if he was having a seizure of some kind although she was very much afraid it was something else entirely. She kept working, urgency and fear making her fumble. But she was almost free.

Gene was staring, his eyes wide…

Scanlon looked at Neville as though he’d gone mad, ‘Tom? what is it? What’s happening? Didn’t you hear me?’ He tried again but Neville didn’t show any sign that he’d heard anything. ‘Tom, wake up... Monroe and Miles Matheson are coming and we need to do something right fucking now.’

Neville couldn’t do or say anything to respond. He was caught up in waves of something that felt like fire pouring through his whole body and he stared, appalled and entranced as the muscles of his arms and hands pulsed, swelling into massive slabs. He could feel his neck thickening, chest straining at the seams of his shirt, his skin stretching, splitting, healing. A kind of wordless shriek burst out of his throat as he felt himself expanding, growing bigger, taller, stronger. Power surged through him and he laughed, the sound like a thunderclap...

Scanlon stared, eyes wide. Then he shrank away. ‘This is some crazy fucking insane shit.’ He took a quick look around the room, his eyes resting on Connor for a moment, something a little like regret in them, then felt behind him for the handle and backed out of the door. ‘Fuck this, I’m outta here.’ 

Then he was gone. 

Neville snarled, his voice low, harsh and menacing. Bestial.

Rachel stared. He sounded like an animal, an angry, vicious animal. She worked her fingers harder, almost there.

Connor opened his eyes then shut them again, wincing. ‘Oh crap. My head.’ He groaned, opened his eyes again and tried to lift his hands up, struggling for a moment when he found he couldn’t, eyes wide and wild as he figured out he was tied up. He glanced up at Rachel, then Aaron and Gene. ‘What the fuck’s going on? What’s happened?’ Then he saw Neville. ‘Shit, not again. You have got to be fucking kidding me.’

Rachel had pulled her hands free of the last loop and was working on her feet while Neville was distracted. ‘what do you mean, not again?’

Tom Neville was braced against the wall, hands spread out against the dirty white paint. He was breathing in huge gulps, shoulders still visibly expanding under his jacket, the seams splitting under the strain. He looked huge, powerful, head small in proportion to the enormous, muscular body. His hands looked huge too, the knuckles bony, hard, veins snaking across the flesh like worms, the fingers long, with sharp, gleaming nails. The seams of his pants were splitting too, his leg muscles bulging out like a cartoon drawing, the outline of his cock huge and hard and his eyes were shut tight, his face contorted in a stomach churning mix of pain, pleasure and snarling, animal hunger.

Aaron was staring, his eyes wide and filled with horror behind the glasses. ‘Why the fuck would the Nano pick him?’

……………………………….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks so much for reading, I’ll have the conclusion to this story up as soon as I can. Cheers, Magpie


	8. Reminder...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note:   
> Hi there, thank you so much for reading, and for being lovely and following the story so far. I hope you like this final chapter ☺ The titles of the story and chapters are all from songs by Mumford and Sons.

Charlie was following the scent of the others through the scattering of trees along the ridge towards the worker’s cottage and office building that sat on the ridge behind the power station. Her mom, grandpa, Aaron and Connor were in there, she knew it for certain. Their individual flavors swirled through her senses, sparking images of faces, bodies in space, vivid, multi-sensory memories of each one of them. She was acutely aware of Bass and Miles close behind her too, although they were moving like big cats, their steps fast and silent like hers, both holding their weapons still to stop any noises that could give them away, same as her. 

Because they all knew who else was with Rachel, Aaron and the others. 

She glanced back at the others. ‘There’s something weird about Neville, he doesn’t smell right.’ 

Miles nodded, his lips curled in disgust. ‘Yeah, makes me want to throw up.’

Bass chuckled although his eyes were hard. ‘Neville always makes me want to throw up.’

Miles paused, then held up a hand. 'Shh...’ He signaled them to take cover behind the trees.

The front door of the cottage burst open and Scanlon stumbled backwards out of it and nearly fell, just saving himself. Then he spun around and came hurtling towards them, running flat out across the scrub, arms flailing as he pushed his way through branches and tripping over clumps of grass but somehow, someway staying upright. 

Miles stepped out from under the trees and onto a branch, deliberately breaking it…

Scanlon choked off a scream, skidding to a halt, arms wind-milling. And even though his eyes were already wide with panic they got wider, his head swinging from the three of them back to the door and returning to again as though he couldn’t work out what to do, or which was the bigger threat, Miles, Bass and Charlie or what was in the hut. He hovered, undecided then took a deep breath and blinked, eyes shifting and a nervous, edgy smile twisting his lips. 'Hey, you guys got here fast,' His gaze shifted, agitated, between the three of them. 'Listen, you gotta do something, Neville's got the others, but he's turning into the Hulk or something like that. It's fucking insane.'

Miles went to one side of him and grabbed an arm, 'and you helped him.'

Bass grabbed the other, 'so guess how that makes us feel about you...’

Scanlon went white, his chest heaving, hanging limp between the two taller men, 'I didn't do anything to them, I swear. It was him, Neville,’ his voice got higher, squeaking, ‘he said you were all as good as dead and he was the only one left who could do anything about the patriots.' His gaze turned from Bass to Miles then back again, ‘he said you didn’t care about anyone else but each other.’

Charlie stalked up to him, pressing her knife tip hard into the hollow of his throat, her eyes narrowed and totally unsympathetic. ‘He was wrong, moron.’ A tiny drop of blood trickled down the edge of the knife. ’What's he doing to my family?

'And my son.' Bass was holding Scanlon's arm so tight he winced, trying to pull away from the fire and straight into another one.

Miles growled, holding him where he was with a careless show of strength.

Scanlon slumped, defeated.

Charlie pushed the knife in deeper. 'Talk.'

………………………………..

Rachel had freed Aaron and had started untying Gene while she kept a wary eye on Tom Neville.

He was still leaning against the wall, breathing in deep, roaring gasps, chest heaving, eyes staring into nothing. He looked like something out of a pre-blackout movie, lips strained tight over white teeth, muscles bulging under tattered, burst clothing, his shoulders huge, powerful...

Aaron had made himself move and was undoing the ropes around Connor's wrists as fast as he could, darting horrified, frightened glances up at Neville as he did. Connor was trying to help, blood running down the side of his face from the head wound while he frantically rubbed his feet together to get the ropes loose there while Aaron worked on his wrists.

Rachel got her dad untied and was helping him stand, her arm around his waist, her eyes on Neville too, wary and tense. Gene was trying to move but his legs were stiff from sitting and the circulation had gone in his hands. He was leaning on Rachel as she hurried him towards the door.

She'd almost got him out with Aaron and Connor close behind when there was a sound from behind them that froze her blood.

Tom Neville spoke and the sound was like thunder in the small space, 'leaving so soon?'

.......................................

Priscilla stood a little way away from the workers hut under some trees, watching, clouds of fireflies swirling above her head. It was all getting quite exciting. She couldn’t wait to see what happened when her heroes met her new villain. She made a couple of adjustments though, it wouldn’t do for Tom Neville to hurt Aaron, or Rachel. She had other plans for them.

……………………………

Charlie heard the voice and her blood went cold. She ran faster, leaping over fallen trunks and jagged piles of pre-blackout debris as she went. She was nearly there. She could see the door flapping a little where Scanlon had left it open, could smell the fear inside, smell Connor’s blood, feel her mom’s anger and cold fear for her grandpa, feel her grandpa's frustration at his weakness, his age... And the wrongness that was Tom Neville screamed inside her head.

Bass caught up, his hair and shirt blown back by his speed, ‘hey, remember the plan, Charlie.’

She swung a look at him and paused, ‘fuck the plan, he’s insane and fucking enormous and he’s got our families. I vote we move in.’ Her eyes bored into his, ‘you know Connor’s hurt, don’t you?’ She started off again, instinct and long habit making her head for cover rather than chancing open ground and she ran behind a broken concrete wall, crouching down where there was a good view of the door through remnants of steel beams that stuck up like broken teeth. 

Bass slid down beside her and nodded, face grim. ’Yeah, I know.’

She frowned, angry with herself. This wasn’t his fault. It was the Nano. For some reason her mom’s science experiment had decided it wasn’t happy just making people better, now it wanted to make them bigger, a whole fucking lot bigger. And of all the people in their part of Texas it had to choose Neville. Tom Neville who was crazy enough anyway without adding to it.

Miles swung down on the other side of her, big and broad, his movements economical and confident. His deep voice and solid presence was familiar, comforting. Sebastian Monroe made her feel other things, a whole lot of other things. She squirmed a little, her body remembering his. In the last few days he’d reached way down deep inside her to something deep and powerful. Inevitable. She knew that now. The Nano had made it happen faster, that’s all. 

Miles nudged her arm, ‘Keep it together, Charlie, it’s you he wants. You distract him while we get your mom and the others out of there. He’ll be watching you so fucking hard he won’t see us coming until it’s too late.’ 

She heaved a breath and stood up in one smooth movement. ‘Ok then, let’s do it.’ But she hadn’t even gone a step when the roof of the hut exploded in a fountain of debris sending chunks of concrete, jagged strips of tin and torn wall panels flying in every direction, pieces landing on the dusty ground throwing up dust and dirt in scattered mushroom clouds.

And for a moment after that there was silence except for the dust settling and the plop thud of smaller, lighter pieces landing on the ground.

‘Shit’ Charlie ran towards the wreckage, searching for her mom and the others. She started breathing again when she saw them making their way from the building towards the cover of the looming power station walls. They were going as fast as they could but she could see how much her grandpa was limping even with her mom’s help and Connor was leaning heavily on Aaron, blood pouring down his face.

Then, as the dust cleared, a monstrous, cartoon parody of Tom Neville appeared, standing in the space where the roof had been moments earlier, taller than the walls left standing, arms braced on the remaining roof beams. The huge face was smiling and the smile was terrifying in its bland sweetness. The eyes were something else, they were restless, searching and very definitely not sane. Those eyes focused for a moment on Rachel and the others as they ran away, but with nostrils flaring Neville turned away from them towards Charlie. The wide mouth opened and a roaring voice seemed to fill the air around them, ‘I can see you, I can smell your sweet, lying ass, you little bitch. You murdered my son and I am going to make you beg me to die.’ The last word was a shriek that fractured the air. 

In a kind of reflex, both Miles and Bass moved in front of Charlie while she stood there, eyes wide and full of remembered pain and the click of an empty gun.

Miles shook his head, glancing down at her, his dark eyes blazing, ‘Charlie, don’t listen to the crazy bastard, he’s delusional and you know it.’

‘Damn right he is,’ Bass’ lips were a tight line, knuckles white on his sword hilts. 

Charlie took a deep breath and unclipped her knife, ‘I know. Now how do you want to do this?’

There was a crash and a roar from the ruin of the house as Neville started to punch and kick his way out through the walls, ignoring the blood that sprayed from cuts in his hands, face and arms from the flying, broken shards, his face a blood streaked mask, eyes furious, ‘I’m coming for your ass, you Matheson bitch, I’m coming for you right now, I see you there, I see you with Miles and Monroe, I’m going to finish them too. You’re all going to fucking die, you’re all gonna fucking DIE...’ The voice was getting louder, the words slurring together in a cacophony of rage and madness.

Bass drew his swords in a smooth, slick movement, ‘Miles?’

Miles shrugged, a sword in one hand, gun in the other, 'at least we've got his attention.'

Charlie was busy loading her bow, glancing at Miles then Bass, ‘don’t either of you have a city or something?’

Miles shook his head, not taking his eyes off Neville, ‘nope.’

There was silence for a tiny moment, then a slow, hard smile spread over Bass’ face. ‘Indiana.’

Miles lips twisted, his dark eyes hard. 'That should do it.'

Charlie heaved a breath out and got ready to move. ‘Good, that’s good, so what’s the plan?’ She watched as Neville finally got himself free of the remnants of walls, floor and roof, shaking off pieces like a huge bear, muttering and swearing all the time, his red-rimmed eyes glaring at her. He was like something out of one of her nightmares, huge, the scent of his anger and his total, absolute hatred for her striking her senses like a blow.

Neville started towards them, moving fast with long strides, his hands reaching out like huge claws, shirt and pants falling in tatters off massively muscled arms, torso and legs, his heavy boots split but not slowing him down.

‘So, what are we doing?’ Charlie was getting impatient, Neville was almost on them.

Bass swung his swords in a complicated, swirling pattern, but didn't move, ‘It was a movie, Charlie, about a guy called Indiana Jones. There was this huge guy with two swords? And Indy just…’

Miles took the shot.

Tom Neville kept going for a couple more long, lurching steps, a look of slight confusion on his face and a circle of sky shining through the hole in the center of his forehead. Then he fell with a thud that shook the ground and sent plumes of dust and debris rising into the air.

…………………………..

Priscilla watched, their solution had a certain elegance, but it was all over much, much too fast. It was all a little disappointing. She briefly considered reviving Tom Neville then decided against it. His thoughts had been much, much darker and more disturbing than Miles' had ever been and she hadn't liked them. Maybe it was time to work on her new experiment? There were the two Patriots she'd found to use as her first test subjects, and she'd located a house not far away that would be very suitable. There had been some other pictures in her books that had provided interesting insights. She would find other ways to make people happy, other ways to solve the obvious flaws in human design.

She turned to go then paused, eyes following Sebastian, Charlie and Miles as they went to join the others. There was still more to learn from them. Perhaps she would leave things as they were. She could still keep an eye on them while working on her new project, and besides, there was something happening in Willoughby that would be another test. She liked that they had all been grateful to her too, not scared like Aaron. He was still frightened of her even though she had brought him back to life, even though she kept trying to help him. Even though he knew she still loved him. It was very frustrating.

She smiled and walked away. There was a lot of work for her to do.  
……………………………..

Charlie, Bass, Miles and the others caught up with the rest of their troop at the rendezvous point, a new base camp over on the other side of Willoughby in the old brickworks. It was getting harder to find safe places less than a day's ride of Willoughby though, especially for their larger group. Miles still had another couple of possible places up his sleeve, but after that? Survival was uncertain even with super powers, although they definitely helped even the odds a little... 

After a heated discussion, with Bass and Rachel almost coming to blows over the question of whether to shoot him or not, a badly shaken Scanlon had been let loose with the promise from what was left of Duncan's clan that they'd keep an eye on him. The man seemed so traumatised by the whole nano Neville experience thought that it seemed unlikely he was going to be a threat again.

Now Rachel was making sure Gene got some sleep, it had been a hard couple of days for the old man. She was also tending to Connor, his head wound wasn't that serious but it had needed attention, and he needed rest.

Miles left her to it, took a bottle of whisky he'd stashed earlier and hunkered down next to Aaron near one of the campfires dotted around camp. They needed intel, badly, and Gene's connection to Marion was the best lead they had given that everyone in town seemed to think Miles was the big bad. They needed to figure out a plan to convince Marion to help them once Gene was up and about again. The gas canisters he and Bass had taken from the Patriots were a resource they couldn't afford to ignore either and the idea of using it against the patriots in Willoughby, or even Washington and Davis himself had been raised, but apart from Bass who freely admitted that the fact that Texas and Willoughby had executed him made him a little less than caring about collateral damage, no one else wanted to use it and he was outvoted. 

Miles sighed, he wouldn't have thought twice about using the gas in the old days, but now? He was alive when he hadn't expected to be and things looked a bit different from that perspective. He had another drink then handed the bottle to Aaron.

After checking Gene and Connor, and watching Miles get settled in for the night with Aaron, Bass and Charlie left the camp.

Rachel watched them go without saying a word, but she didn’t try to stop them.

..................................

Charlie leaned back, boneless against the wall of the little hunters hut they'd found in the woods and looked up at Bass, glad to be alone with him at last, enjoying the feel of him, his spicy, male scent, the long, strong body close to hers, her whole being vibrating with the afterglow of an orgasm that had felt like it rocked the planet. 'How long do you think the nano will let us stay like this?'

He shrugged, leaning his hands against the wall either side of her head and dipping forwards to brush his lips against her throat, his body deliciously bare, hard and hot against hers, his skin hair rough and smooth as silk at the same time. 'don't know, forever I hope.’ He dropped his hands to her hips, lifting her without any effort high enough above him that his lips could reach her belly, his fingers framing her ass, her hair falling around his face and shoulders in a soft golden waterfall, the scent of her body rich and completely intoxicating. 

She wrapped her legs around his back, knees spread wide to let him in, holding on to his shoulders for balance with fingers that trembled with need. She couldn't get enough of him, it didn't matter how many times they did this, how hard she fucked him, how deeply he fucked her, she needed more, he was a ravenous hunger in her blood and a feast at the same time. Her body rippled and exploded with sensation as he licked and nibbled his way downwards, feasting on her too.

She gasped as he found her center, reveling in his lips, his tongue, the way his eyes gleamed that incredible blue as he looked up at her. It was so good to be alive, to feel, to know this. And as for tomorrow? She felt more hopeful than she had in quite a while. Maybe they would make it out of all this...

Maybe they wouldn't die...

.........................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There it is, I hope you enjoyed Wilder mind... Thank you so much to you lovely people who've stayed with me on this one. I can't say how much I appreciate your comments and encouragement. Wishing you all the very best! Cheers and hope to see you at the next one... xx Magpie.


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